THE  TREATMENT 


OF 


NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 


BETWEEN  POPE  AND  WORDSWORTH 


SUBMITTED    TO   THE    FACULTY    OF   ARTS,    LITERATURE,    AND    SCIENCE, 

OF    THE    UNIVERSITY    OF    CHICAGO,    IN    CANDIDACY    FOR 

THE    DEGREE    OF    DOCTOR    OF    PHILOSOPHY 


BY 


MYRA    REYNOLDS 


IFOR^ 
CHICAGO 

C|e  Sanibcrsitg  of  (jrticagc  ^ress 
1896 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Introduction v-x 

Chapter        I     The  Treatment  of  Nature  in  English  Classical  Poetry         1-52 

Chapter      II     Indications   of    a    New    Attitude  towards  Nature  in 

the  Poetry  of  the  Eighteenth  Century         -         -         -     53-179 

Chapter    III     Gardening  -         -         - 180-192 

Chapter    IV     Travels    -        -        - -  193-212 

Chapter      \     Fiction        .---....  213-230 

Chapter    VI'*  Landscape*  Painting          .--...  231-241 

Chapter  VII     General  Summary 242-274 

Bibliographical  Index .  .  275-280 

General  Index 281-290 


ni 


U^^5 


UNIVERSITY 


INTRODUCTION. 

The  general  theme  of  the  treatment  of  nature  in  literature  is 
not  a  new  one.  Schiller's  essay  entitled  "Ueber  die  Naive  und 
Sentimentale  Dichtung"  (i  704).  was  the  first  attempt 
Introductory  to  state  and  explain  the  difference  between  the 
statement  classical  way  of  looking  at  nature  and  the  modern 

way.  The  externality,  the  lack  of  heart,  in  the 
classical  attitude  towards  nature,  he  attributed  to  the  fact  that 
the  Greeks  were  in  their  thoughts  and  habits  of  life  so  a  part  of 
nature  that  they  felt  no  impulse  to  seek  her  with  the  passionate 
longing  of  the  modern  poet,  whose  ardent  and  heartfelt  love  of 
nature  is  but  the  result  of  a  mode  of  thought  and  life  out  of 
harmony  with  her.  This  essay,  however  inadequate  as  a  presen- 
tation of  the  Greek  attitude  towards  nature,'  determined  the  lines 
on  which  much  of  succeeding  study  was  made. 

Alexander  von  Humboldt  in  his  Kosmos  (1845-58),  in  the 
midst  of  his  scientific  generalizations  and  his  encyclopaedic 
accumulation  of  natural  facts  takes  occasion  to  discuss  the  treat- 
ment of  nature  in  poetry  and  landscape  painting.  The  chapter 
on  landscape  painting  is  chiefly  confined  to  such  topographical, 
botanical,  and  other  pictorial  representations  as  serve  to  add  to 
our  knowledge  of  distant  lands.  The  boundaries  of  the  whole 
question  are  enlarged  by  a  representation  of  the  profound  feeling 
for  nature  in  Semitic  and  Indo-European  races.  There  is  a  brief 
study  of  the  mediaeval  feeling  for  nature  as  it  appears  in  Dante, 
and  finally  of  the  treatment  of  nature  in  some  prose  writers  of 

'  Humboldt  was  the  first  to  attack  Schiller's  view.  He  said  that  after  a  full 
reading  of  Greek  and  Roman  authors  he  found  himself  unable  to  accept  Schil- 
ler's statement  without  many  reservations.  Later  Biese  spoke  of  Schiller's 
Essay  as  "jener  bahnbrechende  Aufsatz^^  but  showed  that  the  statement  of  the 
case  was  inadequate  because  it  was  based  on  the  poetry  of  a  single  period  and  thus 
failed  entirely  to  take  account  of  many  phases  of  nature  presented  in  the 
poetry  after  the  brief  "  reflexionslose  naive  hoinerische  Zeit" 


'^ 


VI  INTRODUCTION 

the  eighteenth  century.  The  only  English  poets  mentioned  are 
Shakespeare,  Thomson,  and  Byron,  the  whole  subject  of  English 
poetry  being  disposed  of  in  less  than  a  page. 

In   Ruskin's  Madern  Painters    (1843-60)    are    several     most 
interesting  chapters  on   Landscape  in   classical,  mediaeval,  and 
modern  times.     "Of  the  Pathetic  Fallacy"  and  "The  Moral  of 
Landscape  "  are  also  suggestive  though  misleading  studies, 
^t^    j.  Victor  de   Laprade's  LaJSentiment  de  la  Nature  (1866,  1868) 

^  contains  in  full   the  theories  already  suggested  in  the  preface  to 

his  Les  Symphoncs.  In  the  introductory  chapters  he  outlines  his 
conception  of  the  development  of  art.  He  regards  architecture 
as  essentially  the  expression  of  man's  interest  in  religion  ; 
sculpture  of  his  interest  in  the  demi-god  or  hero  ;  painting  of 
his  interest  in  the  complex  and  varied  life  of  man  as  man  ;  while 
the  characteristic  art  of  the  present  age  is  music  with  which  the 
love  of  nature  is  closely  allied,  since  both  affect  the  mind 
indirectly  through  indeterminate  and  vaguely  suggestive  har- 
monies, and  both  tend  by  their  complexity  and  subtlety  to  rouse 
sweet  reveries,  luxurious  emotion,  nameless  longings,  ineffectual 
aspirations,  but  leave  the  conscience  and  the  will  untouched. 
No  one  can  read  these  critical  studies  of  Laprade  or  his  earlier 
poems  without  feeling  his  enthusiastic  joy  in  the  presence  of 
il  nature.     But  he  feared  this  joy  and  counted  it  a  part  of  the  con- 

cupiscence of  the  flesh  except  as  it  became  an  avenue  to  com- 
munion with  the  divine  spirit.  His  indictment  against  the 
passion  for  nature  in  modern  music,  painting,  poetry,  fiction, 
science,  is  that  the  material  is  everywhere  exalted  at  the  expense 
of  the  spiritual.  To  be  of  value  the  presentation  of  the  external 
world  in  whatever  realm  of  art  must  subordinate  its  appeal 
to  the  senses,  and  emphasize  its  appeal  to  man's  inner  life. 
Laprade's  work  is  a  plea  for  idealism  as  against  realism.  In  all 
his  brilliant  presentation  of  the  attitude  towards  external  nature 
of  different  races  in  different  epochs,  this  point  of  view  must  be 
taken  into  account.  In  his  rapid  survey  of  English  poetry  the 
poets  to  receive  closest  attention  are  Shakespeare,  Spenser,  and 
Milton.  In  later  times  the  most  significant  of  the  poets  who 
^'  gravitent  antour  de  Lord  Byron''  are  Wordsworth  and  Shelley^ 


INTRODUCTION  vu 

who,  in  their  attitude  towards  nature,  are  respectively  moralist 
and  metaphysician.  Byron's  distinction  is  that  he  alone  found 
"  le  juste  equilibre  entre  F exuberance  de  la  nature  et  celle  du  pur 
esprity  Thomson's  Seasons  are  of  value  because  of  good  genre 
pictures  and  vivid  descriptions  of  ^pg1i<;|]  ^^pori-c;  but  the  initial 
force  in  the  return  to  nature  is  Burns. 

Unquestionably  the  most  important  of  the  books  that  treat  of 
nature  in  the  realm  of  art  is  WiQ.'!>t\  Die  Entwickelung  des  Naturge- 
fuhls  im  Mittelalter  undin  der  Neuzeit  {\%%^.^  The  book  is  writ- 
ten with  enthusiasm  and  is  most  stimulating  and  suggestive.  The 
subject  matter  is  well  in  hand,  and  so  thoroughly  organized  that 
the  great  movements  in  the  historical  development  of  the  love  of 
nature  are  easily  grasped.  The  plan  is  comprehensive,  including 
not  only  poetry,  but,  in  briefer  outline,  landscape  painting  and 
gardening,  and,  incidentally,  even  fiction  and  philosophy.  The 
least  satisfactory  portion  of  the  book  is  the  treatment  of  the  love 
of  nature  in  English  life  and  thought.  There  is  some  stress  on 
the  development  of  the  English  garden,  but  English  landscape 
painting  is  not  mentioned.  In  the  casual  mention  of  English 
fiction  the  emphasis  is  on  Defoe.  In  poetry  two  epochs  are 
recognized,  that  of  Shakespeare  and  that  of  Byron.  The  chapter 
on  Shakespeare  is  a  close  and  valuable  study.  The  work  of 
Byron  is  estimated  with  justness  and  sympathy,  as  is  also  that  of 
Shelley.  But  the  study  of  Wordsworth  as  a  poet  of  nature  is 
singularly  inadequate.  His  genius  is  considered  as  essentially  of 
the  pastoral-idyllic  order,  with  now  and  then  glimpses  of  an 
^^echte  Liebe  fur  die  JVatur,''  and  an  unmistakable  Pantheism. 
He  is  chiefly  important  as  having  done  for  England  what  Scott 
did  for  Scotland  and  Moore  for  Ireland  and  as  sounding  certain 
notes  which  rang  again  in  Byron  "/>/  verstdrkter  Tonarty 
Thomson  is  the  only  eighteenth  century  poet  studied.  Here 
again  is  a  failure  to  recognize  the  real  importance  of  the  poet's 

'  Biese  has  two  earlier  important  books :  Die  Entwickelung  des  A^atur- 
gefuhls  bei  den  Griechen  (1882)  and  Die  Entwickelung  des  Naturgefiihls  bei  den 
Romern  (1884).  In  Zeitschrift  fiir  vergleichende  Litteraturgeschiclite,  N^eue  Folge, 
Siebenter  Band  {\'i()i,),  p.  311,  is  a  valuable  annotated  summary  of  recent  (since 
1882)  German  studies  on  das  antike  und  das  deutsche  Natnrgefiihl. 


Vlll  INTRODUCTION 

work.  Biese  acknowledges  the  truth  of  Thomson's  separate  pic- 
tures of  nature,  and  his  genuine  love  of  the  country,  but  denies 
his  importance  as  a  "pathfinder,"  saying  that  he  but  followed 
where  Pope's  Pastorals  and  Windsor  Forest  had  marked  out  the 
way. 

In  1887  appeared  John  Veitch's  The  Feeling  for  Nature  in 
Scottish  Poetry.  The  first  volume  begins  with  the  early  romances 
and  national  epics,  and  takes  up  the  chief  poets  down  to  James 
VI.  The  second  volume  is  devoted  to  the  modern  period  from 
Ramsay  to  David  Gray.  Most  of  the  authors  treated  belong  to 
the  nineteenth  century,  but  there  are  admirable  brief  studies  of 
Ramsay,  Thomson,  Hamilton  of  Bangour,  Bruce,  Fergusson,  and 
Burns.  There  is  also  a  short  but  interesting  chapter  on  the  rise 
of  landscape  painting,  with  especial  attention  to  its  develop- 
ment in  Scotland.  Veitch's  book  is  written  out  of  a  full  knowl- 
edge and  warm  appreciation  of  Scottish  poetry  and  of  Scottish 
nature,  and  his  critical  dicta  are  usually  trustworthy,  though  he 
shows,  perhaps,  a  tendency  to  over  emphasize  the  influence  of 
Scottish  poetry  on  the  love  of  nature  in  succeeding  English 
poetry. 

In  John  Campbell  Shairp's  Poetic  Interpretation  of  Nature 
(1889)  are  studies  of  Homer,  Lucretius,  and  Virgil;  of  Chaucer, 
Shakespeare,  and  Milton  ;  and  of  Wordsworth.  Two  chapters 
are  devoted  to  the  eighteenth  century.  Ramsay  is  the  poet  to 
whom  the  reappearance  of  the  feeling  for  natural  beauty  is  traced. 
Thomson  is  praised  for  his  minute  faithfulness  in  description, 
and  his  genuine  love  of  the  country,  but  his  tawdry  diction  and 
superficial  conception  of  nature  are  heavy  indictments  against 
him.  The  chapter  on  Collins,  Gray,  Goldsmith,  Burns,  Cowper, 
Ossian,  and  the  Ballads  is  interesting,  but  from  its  brevity  is 
necessarily  inadequate.  The  most  suggestive  chapter  in  the  book 
is  the  one  in  which  there  is  a  classification  of  the  ways  in  which 
poets  deal  with  nature.'  The  whole  subject  of  the  treatment  of 
nature  in   poetry  is  an   attractive  one  to  Mr.  Shairp,  and  he  fre- 

'(«)  They  express  childlike  delight  in  the  open-air  world,  {b)  They  use 
nature  as  the  background  or  setting  to  human  action  or  emotion,  {c)  They  see 
nature  through  historic  coloring.     ((/)  They  make  nature  sympathize  with  their 


INTRODUCTION  IX 

quently  recurs   to   it   in   his  Studies  in  Poetry  and  Philosophy  and 
Aspects  of  Poetry. 

In  many  books,  also,  not  devoted  exclusively  to  the  treatment  of 
naturein  literature  there  are  special  studies  and  much  runnino^  com- 
ment of  a  valuable  sort.  This  is  true  of  almost  all  essays  on  the  early 
nineteenth  century  poets,  and  especially  so  of  the  various  essays 
on  Wordsworth.  There  is  something  to  be  found  in  Manuals  of 
English  Literature,  as  in  Gosse's  Eighteenth  Century  in  the  chapter, 
"The  Dawn  of  Naturalism,"  in  various  notes  in  Perry's  English 
Literature  of  the  Eighteenth  Century,  Phelps's  The  English  Romantic 
Movement,  and  others ;  also,  in  some  histories,  as  in  Lecky's 
History  of  England  in  the  Eighteenth  Century ;  in  some  philosophi- 
cal studies,  as  in  Leslie  Stephen's  English  Thought  in  the  Eigh- 
teenth Century  ("The  Literary  Reaction"),  and  in  Stopford 
Brooke's  Theology  in  the  English  Poets  [passim);  in  various  literary 
studies,  as  in  McLaughlin's  Studies  in  Mediczval  Life  and  Litera- 
ture ("The  Mediaeval  Feeling  for  Nature"),  Vernon  Lee's 
Euphorion  ("The  Outdoor  Poetry"),  Symonds's  Essays  Speculative  ^ 

and  Suggestive  ("Landscape")  ("Nature  Myths  and  Allegories"), 
"Bufroughs's    Fresh    Fields    ("Birds    and    Poets")   and   Fischer's 
Drei    Studien    zur    Englischen    Litteraturgeschichte   ("  Uber    den 
Einfluss  der  See  auf  die  Englische  Litteratur  "). 

The  books  indicated  show  that  there  is  much  interest  in  the 
general  theme  of  nature  as  an  element  of  art.  The  literary 
periods  that  have  been  most  studied  are,  however,  the  Greek  and 
Roman,  the  mediaeval,  and  the  modern.  The  treatment  of  nature 
in  so  barren  a  time  as  the  eighteenth  century  in  England  has 
naturally  received  little  close  attention.  In  my  own  work  on 
this  period  I  have  endeavored  to  discover  what  indications  there 
are  that  the  attitude  toward  nature  of  the  early  nineteenth  century 
is  but  the  legitimate  outcome  of  influences  actively  at  work 
during   the  eighteenth  century.     This  study  is  therefore  one  of 


origins. 


I  have  divided  my  work  into  three  parts.     I  have  endeavored 

own  feelings,  {e)  They  dwell  upon  the  Inhuman  or  Infinite  side  of  nature. 
(/)  They  give  description  for  its  own  sake.  (^)  They  interpret  nature  by 
imaginative  sympathy.     (//)  They  use  nature  as  a  symbol  of  spirit. 


X  INTRODUCTION 

to  give  first  a  general  statement  of  the  chief  characteristics  that 
marked  the  treatment  of  nature  under  the  dominance  of  the 
English  classical  poets.  Then  follows  a  detailed  study  of  such 
eighteenth  century  poets  as  show  some  new  conception  of 
nature.  The  third  division  is  made  up  of  briefer  studies  of  the 
landscape  gardening,  the  fiction,  the  books  of  travel,  and  the 
painting  of  the  eighteenth  century,  the  purpose  being  to  deter- 
mine in  how  far  the  spirit  found  in  the  poetry  reveals  itself  in 
other  realms  in  which  the  love  of  nature  might  be  expected  to 
find  expression. 


^  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY 
CHAPTER  I.        V^^^^^H^ 

THE    TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN    ENGLISH    CLASSICAL    POETRY. 

The  poetry  of  the  English  classical  period  falls  naturally  into 

four  subdivisions. 

I.  The  period  of  inception  may  be  reckoned   as 

Subdivisions      beginning  with  Waller's  first  couplets  in    1621  and 

.  ,  includins^  the  work  of  his  followers,  Denham,  Dav- 

period  *  '  '  . 

enant,  and  Cowley.' 
2.  The  period  of  establishment   includes  the   work  between 
the  Restoration  and  i  700.     Dryden  is  the  central  figure. 

^5-J"he  period  of  culmination  is  a  brief  period  covering  less 
than  the  first  quarter  of  the  eighteenth  century.  Pope  is  the 
central  figure. 

4.  The   period   of   decadence   extends   from   about    1725    to 
the  end  of  the  century. 

Any  generalizations  concerning   the  attitude  of  this  classical 
period  towards  nature  must  be  based  on  a  large  number  of  spe- 
cific instances,  but   in  collecting   and  using  these 
Purpose  and       specific  instances  certain  cautions  must  be  observed. 

method  in  .,,  .    ,  .-u         ■     ^u  -^         c   ^  ■         ■ 

...      .    ,  Chief  among  these  is  the  necessity   of  keeping  in 

mind  the  point  of  view  from  which  the  study 
should  be  made.  It  is  not  the  purpose  to  discover  all  that  has 
been  said  about  nature  by  the  classical  poets  between  1623  and 
1798.  It  is  the  purpose,  rather,  to  eliminate  exceptions,  and  to 
dwell  on  the  general,  obvious  qualities,  the  typical  features, 
of  the  classical  poet's  conception  of  nature.  This  principle 
determines  the  relative  importance  of  the  periods  noted  above. 
Illustrations  drawn  from  a  large  number  of  poems  in  the  second 
and  third  periods  would  serve  as  the  basis  for  a  general  state- 
ment.    Illustrations  from  periods  one  and  four  would  need  to  be 

'Gosse:  P'rom  Shakespeare  to  Pope. 

I 


2  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

scrutinized,  for  they  might  be  purely  classical,  or  they  might  be 
survivals  of  the  Elizabethan  romantic  age  or  prophecies  of  the 
modern  romantic  age.  Cowley,  for  instance,  belongs  to  the 
first  classical  period  because  he  wrote  in  couplets,  but  his  dic- 
tion, his  conceits,  and  in  some  respects  his  attitude  towards 
nature  are  post  Elizabethan  rather  than  classical.  Illustrations 
from  his  poems  are  of  value,  therefore,  for  the  present  purpose, 
only  when  they  are  in  accord  with  the  spirit  afterwards  found  in 
the  time  of  Dryden  and  Pope.  So,  too,  Milton  and  Marvell, 
though  coming  chronologically  within  the  first  and  second 
periods,  stand  in  the  main  quite  aloof  from  any  tendencies  that 
can  be  called  classical,  and  their  poetry  is  referred  to  only  when 
it  seems  to  illustrate  the  dominant  classical  conception.  Abun- 
dant and  valuable  illustration  of  the  classical  conception  may  be 
drawn  from  the  fourth  period,  because  tendencies  are  nowhere 
more  clearly  shown  than  in  the  inevitable  exaggerations  of  a 
time  of  decadence,  but  the  legitimacy  of  any  illustration  is  deter- 
mined by  its  likeness  to  the  dominating  traits  of  the  preceding 
periods.  While  this  study  is  confined  in  the  main  to  the  poets 
of  the  period.  Journals,  Letters,  Travels,  and  Essays  have  been 
sparingly  quoted  where  they  serve  as  proof  that  the  poetry 
fairly  represents  the  spirit  of  the  age  in  which  it  was  written. 

Pope   called    Wycherley  an   "obstinate  lover  of  the  town'" 

and   the  phrase  may  well  be  taken  to  mark  one  characteristic  of 

the  orthodox  classicists.     Poems,  Letters,  Journals, 

Attitude  Biographies,  and  Essays  bear  witness  to  the  reluc- 

towards  tance  with  which  the  men  and  women   of   this   age 

bade  farewell  to  the  "dear,  damned,  distracting 
by  general  " 

preference  for     town."^      Charles   Lamb's     lifelong     devotion     to 

city  life  Fleet  Street  and  the  Strand,  and  the   sentiment  of 

the  cockneys  who,  as  Hazlitt  said,  preferred  hang- 
ing in  London  to  a  natural  death  out  of  it,^  have  their  true 
prototypes  in  the  classical  age.  "  When  a  man  is  tired  of  Lon- 
don he  is  tired  of  life,"  is  Dr.   Johnson's  dictum.     Gibbon   said 

•  Pope  :  Letters,  Vol.  I,  p.  73. 

^  Pope  :  A  Farewell  to  London,  Work.s,  Vol.  IV,  p.   481. 

3  Hazlitt:  On  Londoners  and  Country  People. 


NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  CLASSICAL  POETRY  3 

that  when  he  visited  the  country  it  was  to  see  his  friends  and  not 
the  trees.  Boswell's  only  justification  of  a  hastily  expressed  lik- 
ing for  the  country  was  that  he  had  "appropriated  the  finest 
descriptions  in  the  ancient  Classicks  to  certain  scenes  there." '  But 
not  even  the  classics  could  reconcile  most  people  to  a  country 
life.  It  was  dreary,  monotonous,  difficult.  There  was  no 
society,  no  news.  The  days  went  yawningly  by  with  no  vivid 
interests,  no  stirring  occurrences.  "  No  person  of  sense," 
exclaimed  Mr.  Mallet's  sister,  "would  live  six  miles  out  of  Lon- 
don."'' To  live  in  the  country  was  to  be  buried.  Lord  Bath- 
urst  looked  upon  his  sojourn  in  his  country  home  as  a  "  sound 
nap  "  ^  preparatory  to  Parliament.  "If  you  wish  to  know  how  I 
live,  or  rather  lose  a  life  in  the  country,"  wrote  Pope,  "  Martial 
will  inform  you  in  one  line  : 

Prandeo,  poto,  cano,  ludo,  lego,  caeno,  quiesco."-* 
Pope   found   pure  air  and   regular   hours   a  physical   necessity, 
but  he  often  rebelled  at  his  banishment   from    town   delights,  as 
did  his  "fond  virgin"  when  compelled  to  seek  wholesome  coun- 
try air. 

"  She  went  to  plain-work,  and  to  purling  brooks, 
Old-fashioned  halls,  dull  aunts,  and  croaking  rooks, 
She  went  from  Opera,  Park,  Assembly,  Play, 
To  morning  walks,  and  prayers  three  hours  a  day  ; 
To  part  the  time  'twixt  reading  and  bohea. 
To  muse,  and  spill  her  solitary  tea. 
Or  o'er  cold  coffee  trifle  with  the  spoon, 
Count  the  slow  clock,  and  dine  exact  at  noon."  s 

Isabella  in  Dryden's  The  Wild  Gallant  speaks  the  general  senti- 
ment:  "He  I  marry  must  promise  me  to  live  at  London.  I 
cannot  abide  to  be  in  the  country,  like  a  wild  beast  in  the  wil- 
derness:"* So,  too,  Harriet,  in  The  Man  of  Mode,  counted  all 
beyond  Hyde  Park  a  desert,  and  said  that  her  love   of   the   town 

'  Boswell  :  Life  of  Dr.  Johnson,  Vol.  Ill,  p.  178  and  note. 

"Pope  :  Letters,  Vol.  IV,  p.  449. 

3  Pope  :  Letters,  Vol.  Ill,  p.  346. 

^Pope:  Letters,  Vol.  I,  p.  67. 

sPope  :  Works,  Vol.  Ill,  p.  226. 

*Dryden  :  Works,  Vol.  II,  p.  74. 


4  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

was  so  intense  as  to  make  her  hate  the  country  even  in  pictures 
and  hangings.'  In  Epsom  Wells  the  apostle  of  "a  pretty  inno- 
cent country  life,"  is  the  boor  Clodpate,  but  Lucia  assures  him 
that  people  really  live  nowhere  but  in  London,  for  the  "  insipid 
dull  being"  of  country  folk  cannot  be  called  life.=  It  was  in 
much  the  same  spirit  that  Lady  Mary  Pierrepont  responded  to 
Lord  Montagu's  proposition  that  they  should  live  at  Wharne- 
cliffe.  "Very  few  people,"  she  said,  "that  have  settled  entirely 
in  the  country  but  have  grown  at  length  weary  of  one  another." 
Her  preference  for  town  life  recurs  in  her  poem.  The  Bride  in 
the  Country. 

"By  the  side  of  a  half  rotten  wood 
Melantha  sat  silently  down, 
Convinced  that  her  scheme  was  not  good, 
And  vexed  to  be  absent  from  Town. 

How  simple  was  I  to  believe 
Delusive,  poetical  dreams  ! 
Or  the  flattening  landscapes  they  give 
Of  meadows  and  murmuring  streams. 
Bleak  mountains,  and  cold  starving  rocks, 
Are  the  wretched  result  of  my  pains  ; 
The  swains  greater  brutes  than  their  flocks. 
The  nymphs  as  polite  as  the  swains."  •• 

When  Shenstone's  young  squire  went  forth  to  London  in   search 

of   a  wife  the   desired   lady   declared   that   she    "could   breathe 

nowhere    else    but    in    town."'^     Lyttleton's    fair    maiden    finds 

country  life  "supinely  calm,   and   dully   innocent,"  and  affirms 

that 

"The  town,  the  Court,  is  Beauty's  proper  sphere."^ 

Young's  Fulvia  had  a  similar  passion  for  the  town. 

"  Green  fields,  and  shady  groves,  and  crystal  springs, 
And  larks,  and  nightingales,  are  odious  things  ; 

"  Etherege :  The  Man  of  Mode,  Act  3,  Sc.  I;  Act  5,  Sc.  3. 

"Shadwell :  Epsom  Wells,  Act  2,  Sc.  i. 

3  Montagu  :  Letters  and  Works,  Vol.  I,  p.  72. 

^  Montagu  :  Letters  and  Works.  Vol  II,  p.  505. 

sShenstone:  A  Ballad. 

*  Lyttleton  :   Soliloquy  of  a  Beauty  in  the  Country. 


NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  CLASSICAL  POETRY  5 

And  smoke,  and  dust,  and  noise,  and  crowds,  delight. 
And  to  be  pressed  to  death,  transports  her  quite."' 

In  Aaron  Hill's  poems  we  find  a  characteristic   contest   over  the 
respective  merits  of  city  and  country.     Philemon  exclaims, 

"  Let  rustic  sports  engage  the  lab'ring  hind. 
And  cultivated  acres  plough  his  mind  ; 
Let  him  to  unfrequented  woods  repair, 
And  snuff,  unenvy'd,  his  lean  mountain  air." 

Damon  endeavors  to  defend 

"  Th'  unglorious  preference  of  a  country  life  " 

by  calling  in  evidence  Cowley's  retirement  to  the  shades,  but 
Philemon  triumphantly  shows  that  Cowley's  dislike  of  the  town 
was  a  clear  case  of  sour  grapes.  In  the  end  Damon  recognizes 
that  it  is  weak  and  unmanly  to  prefer  the  country.-  Browne's 
Celia  explains  to  Chloe  that  country  life  may  become  endurable  / 
if  one  does  not  give  herself  up  to  "dull  landscape  "  but  learns  to 
think  of  the  country  as  "the  town  in  miniature."^ 

Such  expressions  as  these  are  typical.  They  indicate  the 
general  dislike  for  any  life  away  from  the  city.  And  even  those 
who  loved  the  country,  or  thought  they  did,  were  far  enough 
from  caring  for  any  but  the  tamest  of  its  possible  delights. 
Pope's  list  of  country  pleasures,  though  half  humorous,  is  never- 
theless suggestive.  In  contrast  to  Mrs.  M — 's  devotion  to  ^ 
"  play-houses,  parks,  assemblies,  London,"  he  depicts  his  own 
"rapture"  in  the  presence  of  "  gardens,  rookeries,  fish-ponds, 
arbours. "■•  When  Bolingbroke  "retired  from  the  Court  and 
glory  to  his  country-seat  and  wife"^  he  bravely  insisted  that  he 
liked  the  change.  "  Here,"  he  wrote  from  Dawley,  "  I  shoot 
strong  and  tenacious  roots.  I  have  caught  hold  of  the  earth  and 
neither  my  enemies  nor  my  friends  will  find  it  an  easy  matter  to 

'  Young  :  Satire  V  ;  On  Women. 

"  Aaron  Hill :  Dialogue  between  Damon  and  Philemon. 
3  Isaac  Hawkins  Browne  :  From  Celia  to  Chloe. 

*■  Pope  :  Letters,  Vol.  IV.  p.  476.     Cf.    From  Soame  Jenyns  in  the  Country 
to  the  Lord  Lovelace  in  Town. 

5  Pope  :  Letters,  Vol.  IV,  p.  253. 


6  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

transplant   rae  again."'     But  we   must  join   Pope  in  the  laugh 
against   such   a   catching   hold   of  the  earth  when  we  learn  that 
Bolingbroke  paid  ^200  to  have  his  country   halls   painted  with 
rakes,   prongs,  spades,  and  other  insignia  of  husbandry  in  order 
to  make  it  perfectly  evident  that  he  really  did  live  on  a  farm.* 
if  The  genuine  lover  of  the  countrv  in  the  classical  age   expended 
/     his  enthusiasm   on   the  mild  and  easy   pleasures   of  a  well-kept 
'      country  house  easily  accessible  from  the  city.     That  a  sane  man 
could  choose  to  live   as   Wordsworth   did   in   the  Lake  District 
would  have  passed  belief.     In  general   the   country  was  thought 
of   but   as  a  good   place   to  recruit  one's  jaded  energies,  or  as  a 
refuge  where  disappointments  might  be  hidden  and  disgrace  for- 
gotten.   ' 

According  to  Gay, 

"Whene'er  a  Courtier's  out  of  place, 
The  country  shelters  his  disgrace,"  ^ 

and  his  deserted,  lovelorn  Araminta  felt  that  only  the  melan- 
cholv  shades  and  croaking  ravens  of  the  country  could  suit  her 
unhappy  fate.'*  Watts  thought  that  none  but  "useless  souls " 
should  "  to  woods  retreat."  ^  On  the  whole,  the  words  of  the  city 
mouse  to  his  country  cousin  expressed  the  prevailing  sentiment. 

"  Let  savage  beasts  lodge  in  a  country  den  ; 
You  should  see  towns,  and  manners  know,  and  men."* 

The  poet  might  sing  the  charms  of  the  country  if  he  chose,  but 
he  was,  after  all,  as  Denham  said  of  Virgil  and  Cowley,  only 
"gilding  dirt."  7 

The  attitude  towards  nature  in  the  literature  of  any  age  may 
be  tested  in  two  ways,  bv  what  is  said,  and  by  what  is  left  unsaid, 

'Pope:  Letters,  Vol.  II,  p.  113. 

=2 Pope:  Letters,  Vol.  II,  p.  133. 

3 Gay:  Fable  33,  First  Series. 

*Gay:    Araminta. 

5  Watts:    To    David    Polhill.      Cf.    Shenstone :    The    Progress    of   Taste, 
4  :  172  ;  Lyttleton  :  To  Mr.  Poyntz. 

*  Cowley  :  The  Country  Mouse. 

^  Denham  :  On  Mr.  Abraham  Cowley's  Death,  1.  79. 


NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  CLASSICAL  POETRY  7 

and  of  these  the  second  is  perhaps  the  more  significant.  Cer- 
tainly in  the  poetry  of  the  classical  period  the  persistent  ignor- 
ing of  the  grand  and  terrible  in  nature  comes 
The  grand  and  home  to  the  mind  as  a  most  convincing  proof  of 
the  terrible  ^j^g  prevailing  distaste  for  wild  scenery.  And 
when  we  apply  the  other  test  and  find  that  the 
or  disliked  conspiracy  of  silence  is  broken  only  by  expressions 

indicative  of  positive  dislike  of  such  scenes,  the 
case  becomes  a  strong  one.  This  point  may  be  clearly  illustrated 
by  a  somewhat  detailed  study  of  the  poetical  treatment  of  the 
mountains  and  the  sea. 

Harely  in  the  long  period  between  Waller  and  Wordsworth  do 
we  find  any  trace  of  the  modern  feeling  towards  mountains.     If 
they    are    spoken   of   at   all    it   is    to   indicate   the 
/j  Mountains  difficulty   in  surmounting  them   or  to  express  the 

general  distaste  for  anything  so  savagely  and 
untameably  wild.  It  is  interesting  to  note  that  passages  express- 
ing the  most  active  dislike  of  mountains  show  really  some  close 
observation  and  a  good  deal  of  picturesque  energy  of  phrase 
They  were  evidently  the  outcome  of  a  personal  experience,  the 
unpleasantness  of  which  demanded  forcible  epithets.  They 
show  that  when  men  were  compelled  by  the  exigencies  of  travel  to 
go  into  a  mountainous  region  there  was  not  wanting  a  perception 
of  certain  characteristic  mountain  qualities,  but  that  these  qualities 
were  only  those  exciting  repulsion  and  terror.  In  no  case 
does  a  sense  of  the  sublimity  and  beauty  of  mountains  find, 
or  even  apparently  seek  expression.  This  is  true  in  travels, 
fiction,  biography,  and  letters,  as  well  as  in  poetry.  A  few  typical 
illustrations  may  be  given.  Howell,  who  went  abroad  twice 
before  1622,  strikes  the  keynote  of  the  travelers  who  came  later. 
He  distinctly  objected  to  the  "monstrous  abruptness"  of  the 
"  Pyereny  Hills"  and  he  found  the  Alps  even  more  "high  and 
hideous."  He  was  obliged  to  admit  that  the  Welsh  mountains 
were  but  mole-hills  compared  to  the  Alps,  but  he  thought  the 
scale  more  than  turned  by  the  fact  that  those  "huge,  monstrous 
excrescences  of  nature"  were  entirely  useless,  while  Eppint'  and 
'James  Howell:  Epistolae  Ho  Eliante.     Bk.  i,  Sec.  i,  Lettens  23,  43. 


8  TJtSATMEMT  OF  A-ATURE  IK  ENGLISH  POETRY 

Penminmaur   at    least    furnished    grass    for    the   cattle        Ioh„ 
Evelyn  apparent),  regarded   the  ..Ips  chieflv  a    an   unpleisan 
barner  between  the  "sweete  and  delicious  "gardens  of  Fra" 

;Icep.ioro7re"''"°'  '"'T  ''''"'-  °'  ^-'y."nd  hfs 
conception  of  them  ,s  as  the  place  where  nature  swept  „n  the 
rubbish  of  the  earth  to  clear  the  Plains  of  Lo.nbardy  ■      Wdison 
was  another  of  these    early   travelers,  and   he.  too     fo™d    the 

scenes     of  a  n.ountamous  region  gave  him  little  pleasure  ■     He 
preferred    the    safe   monotony   of   plains.      Both    E  e    n    a"d 
Add.son    expended    all    the    descriptive    ener<,v    thev    h  d 
spare  for   mountains   on   Vesuvius,   but   i,    11°'  „     co 
character  as  a  striking   and   curious   natural":  "'''    "' 

attracted  thenu     Burnet    of    the    Charter  Ho'  r"°"    """' 

Lady  Mary  Pierrepont.  in  his  ...  "T^C;      v^'r^eo" 
logical  reason  for  the  existence  of  mountains.     He  conceives  ,t 
present  world  as  a  gigantic  ruin,  the  result  of  sin      O    ILllv 
the  earth  was  perfectly  smooth.     "  ,t  had  the  beauty  of  yo«h  a  d 
blooming  nature,  fresh   and  fruitful,  and  not  a  wHnklfscar  or 
racture  in  al    its  body  ;   no  rocks  nor  mountains,  no  ho  Lv  caC 
nor  gaping  channels,  but  even  and  uniform  all  over      And  h 
smoothness  of  the  earth  made  the  face  of  the  he  ven    so  fo       t 
air  was  calm  and  serene;  none  of  those  tumultuary  notio"' a"d 
conflicts  of  vapours,  which  the  winds  cause  in  ours.     tJ ^ suited 

ruitiirt  ;^^i,: thriitioTznn?- "  r-"  ^'-" 

break  through  the  beau.;:;".,  oh  rut::;?  1?;"'°''^' •" 
chaos  were  piled  up  those  "wild  vns,  ^  1  the  ensuing 
stone  and  earth."  .Le  "re  '  'i,  sT  '  «"""  ""P^  "' 
m  .7.5  Penneculk  said  thiu  ,  s!  1  n.'hi  sTf  1  '  ZT'"'-' 
for  the  most  part,  green,  grassy,  and '"e^s':'  1  ;ror:t:d"t: 
the  bordering  mountains  as  bein^r  ^^  blick  rr.iai.       I  °f  J^^ted  to 

choly  aspect,  u-ith   deep  and   horrid   pre 'iJ^       "' ""'"" 

1       m  noma  precipices,  a  wearisome  and 

Mohn  Evelyn:  Diary  (1641-1706)  pp.  36,  r.^-g. 

3  K  ,""  •;  ''""'^^'^  "^  ''^'y-  ^--va  and  the  Lake 
,t.velyn:  D.ary.p.  x.6;  AdcUson  :  Remarks  on  Italy 
•rhomas  Burnet :  Theory  of  the  Earth.     CI,,  on  "  Mountains  " 


NATURE  IN  EAGLISH  CLASSICAL  POETRY  9 

comfortless  piece  of  way  for  travellers.'"  In  1756  Thomas 
Amory  commented  on  the  "  dreadful  northern  fells,"  and  called 
Westmoreland  a  "frightful  country,"  and  spoke  of  "the  ranges 
and  groups  of  mountains  horrible  to  behold."^  So  late  as  1773 
Dr.  Johnson  said  of  the  Highlands  of  Scotland:  "An  eye 
accustomed  to  flowery  pastures  and  waving  harvests  is  astonished 
and  repelled  by  this  wide  e.xtent  of  hopeless  sterility.  The 
appearance  is  that  of  matter  incapable  of  form  or  usefulness, 
dismissed  by  nature  from  her  care."  ^  In  the  same  year  Hutchin- 
son deprecates  the  "dreary  vicinage  of  mountains  and  inclement 
skies"  in  the  Lake  District.  He  describes  Stainmore  thus:  "As 
we  proceeded  Spittle  presented  its  solitary  edifice  to  view; 
behind  which  Stainmore  arises,  whose  heights  feel  the  fury  of  both 
eastern  and  western  storms  ;  .  .  .  a  dreary  prospect  extended  to 
the  eye  ;  the  hills  were  clothed  in  heath,  and  all  around  a  scene 
of  barrenness  and  deformity.  .  .  .  All  was  wilderness  and  horrid 
waste  over  which  the  wearied  eye  travelled  with  anxiety.  ,  .  . 
The  wearied  mind  of  the  traveller  endeavours  to  evade  such 
objects,  and  please  itself  with  the  fancied  images  of  verdant 
plains,  purling  streams  and  happy  groves."* 

The  attitude  towards  mountains  in  the  passages  already 
referred  to  appears  in  the  poetry  of  the  period  with  the  same 
general  tone,  though  with  less  insistence.  Thoughout  Waller's 
poetry  the  only  epithets  applied  to  mountains  are"savage"5  and 
"craggy."*     Marvell,  the  most   genuine  lover  of  nature  in  this 

'  Pennecuik  :  Description  of  Tweeddale,  p.  45. 

^Thomas  Amory :  Life  of  John  Buncle,  Vol.  I,  p.  291 ;  II,  p.  97. 

3  Dr.  Johnson:  Works,  Vol.  IX,  p.  35.  Cf.  also  Dr.  Johnson's  remark  to 
Boswell,  "He  said,  he  would  not  wish  not  to  be  disgusted  in  the  Highlands; 
for  that  would  be  to  lose  the  power  of  distinguishing,  and  a  man  might  then  lie 
down  in  the  middle  of  them.  He  wished  only  to  conceal  his  disgust."  See 
also  his  answer  to  the  question,  "  How  do  you  like  the  Highlands?"  "The 
question  seemed  to  irritate  him,  for  he  answered,  '  How,  Sir,  can  vou  ask  me 
what  obliges  me  to  speak  unfavorably  of  a  countr}^  where  I  have  been  hospit- 
ably entertained  ?  Who  frt«  like  the  Highlands?  I  like  the  inhabitants  very 
well.'"     Boswell's  Life  of  Johnson,  Vol.  V,  p.  317  and  p.  377. 

•♦Hutchinson:  Excursion  to  the  Lakes,  pp.  11,  17. 

5  Waller  :  To  my  Lord  Admiral. 

*  Waller:  Story  of  Phcebus  and  Daphne. 


lO  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

ag^!t?^S"y,et  of  the  age  in  his  feeling  towards  mountains,  for  he 
characterizes  them  as  ill-desiorned  excrescences  that  deform  the 
earth  and  frighten  heaven,  and  he  calls  upon  them  to  learn 
beauty  from  the  soft  access  and  easy  slopes  of  a  well-rounded 
hill.'  The  unpleasant  phrase,  "  high,  huge-bellied  mountains"^ 
in  one  of  Milton's  youthful  poems  is  hardly  atoned  for  by  the 
lines  in  L Allegro, 

"  Mountains  on  whose  barren  breast 
The  labouring  clouds  do  often  rest,"^ 

and  his  poetry  is,  in  general,  marked  bv  the  absence  of  mountain 
scenery.  Dryden's  most  famous  mountains  are  "drowsy"  and 
"seem  to  nod.""  In  Blackmore's  summary  of  the  charges  made 
by  Lucretius  concerning  the  "unartful  contrivance  of  the  world," 
mountains  are  styled  "the  earth's  dishonor  and  encumbering 
load."  The  only  defence  made  by  the  poet  is  that  these  encum- 
brances do  nevertheless  restrain  the  tides,  yield  veins  of  ore,  and 
bear  forests  of  useful  wood.s  So  John  Philips  defends  his  com- 
fortable hypothesis  that  nothing  is  made  in  vain  bv  the  fact  that 
even  "  that  cloud-piercing  hill  Plinlimmon "  is  of  some  value 
since  it  furnishes  "  shrubby  browze  "  for  the  goats. ^  And  Yalden 
explains  how  erring  Nature  supplies  her  own  defects  by  filling 
with  mines  the  "vast  excrescences  of  hills"  that  distort  the 
surface  of  the  earth.'  Prior's  only  mountain  is  Lebanon  with 
"  craggy  brow."  ^  Pope  has  some  "  bright  mountains  "  that  serve 
to   prop    the    incumbent    sky,^   and    he    occasionally    mentions 

'  Marvell :  Upon  the  Hill  and  Grove  at  Billbarrow. 

'  Milton  :  A  Paraphrase  on  Psalm  CXIV. 

3  Veitch  calls  attention  to  the  fact  that  Shakspere  with  all  his  universality 
showed  little  if  any  delight  in  mountains,  and  that  Milton  with  his  directness  of 
vision  and  sympathy  went  over  Switzerland  without  bringing  back  an  image  of 
the  Alps  which  he  thought  fit  to  preserve.  Nature  in  Scottish  Poetry.  \'ol.  I. 
p.  107. 

■♦  l)ryden  :  The  Indian  Emperor,  Works,  \^ol.  2,  p.  360. 

sBlackmore:  The  Creation,  Bk.  3:409. 

'John  Philips:  Cyder  i  :  106. 

'Yalden  :  To  Sir  Humphrey  Mackworth. 

*  Prior  :  Solomon,  Bk.  I.,  1.  52. 

9 Pope:  The  Temple  of  Fame. 


NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  CLASSICAL  POETRY  ll 

mountains  with  such  epithets  as  "hanging,"'  "hollow,"'  and 
"headlong."^  Tickell  showed  his  attitude  towards  mountains 
in  his  address  to  Lord  Lonsdale  whom  he  proposed  to  visit  at 
Lowther  Castle  near  Penrith,  declaring  that  he  did  not  dread  the 
harsh  climate  and  rude  country,  for  the  Earl's  presence  would 
be  sufficient  to  "hush  every  wind  and  every  mountain  smooth."-^ 
Parnell  instances  in  his  catalogue  of  the  horrors  of  Ireland  her 
hills  that  with  naked  heads  meet  the  tempests.*  Dr.  Akenside 
speaks  of  a  "horrid  pile  of  hills." ^  Along  with  this  frank  dis- 
approval of  mountains  is  a  similar  dislike  for  their  concomitants 
such  as  precipices,  wildernesses,  and  even  dense  thickets.* 

'  Pope  :  On  St.  Cecilia's  Day. 

"Pope:  Windsor  Forest,  1.  2I0. 

'Tickell:  Oxford:  A  Poem,  1.  441. 

"Parnell:  To  Mr.  Pope,  1.  83. 

5  Dr.  Akenside  :  Pleasures  of  the  Imagination,  2  :  274  (first  version). 

*This  indifference  to  mountains  or  dislike  of  them  was  not  a  new  thing. 
For  further  illustrations  see  Perry:  Eng.  Lit.  of  i8th  Cent.,  pp.  144-148. 
Humboldt  in  Kosmos  2:16  says  : 

"Vondem  ewigen  Schnee  der  Alpen,  wenn  sie  sich  am  Abend  oder  am 
friihen  Morgen  rothen,  von  der  Schonheit  des  blauen  Gletscher-Eises,  von  der 
grossartigen  Natur  der  schweizerischen  Landschaft  ist  keine  Schilderung  aus 
dem  Alterthum  auf  uns  gekommen  :  und  doch  gingen  ununterbrochen  Staats- 
manner,  Heerfiihrer,  und  in  ihrem  Gefolge  Litteraten  durch  Helvetien  nach 
Gallien.  Alle  diese  Reisenden  wissen  nur  liber  die  unfahrbaren  scheusslichen 
Wege  zu  klagen ;  das  Romantische  der  Naturscenen  beschaftigte  sie  nie.  .  .  . 
Silius  Italicus.  .  .  .  beschreibt  die  Alpengegend  als  eine  schrecken-erregende 
vegetationslose  Einode,  wahrend  er  mit  Liebe  alle  Felsen-schluchten  Italiens 
und  die  buschigen  Ufer  des  Liris  (Garigliano)  besingt." 

An  interesting  early  exception  to  this  general  statement  is  Petrarch's 
description  of  his  ascent  of  Mt.  Ventoux.  Tn  a  letter  dated  April  26,  1335, 
(Petrarca :  Lettere  Famigliari,  Vol.  I,  p.  481)  he  tells  how  this  mountain,  ever 
before  his  eyes,  had  been  from  childhood  a  temptation  to  him,  and  how  he  was 
finally  stimulated  to  make  the  ascent  by  an  account  of  the  wide  view  gained  by 
Philip  of  Macedon  from  one  of  the  highest  mountains  in  Thessaly.  The  most 
significant  passage  in  this  letter  is  that  in  which  are  strangely  mingled  Petrarch's 
pleasure  in  the  magnificent  prospect  and  his  ascetic  fear  of  a  consequent  undue 
subordination  of  the  soul  of  man. 

"At  last  I  turned  to  the  occasion  of  my  expedition.  The  sinking  sun  and 
lengthening  shadows  admonished  me  that  the  hour  of  departure  was  at  hand, 
and,  as  if  started  from   sleep,  I  turned   around   and   looked  to  the  west.     The 


12  TKEATMEXT  OF  XATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

One  cause  of  this  antipathetic  attitude  towards  mountains  and 
wild  scenery  is,  doubtless,  as  has  been  often  suggested,  the  hard- 
ships and  perils  of  travel  before  good  roads  were  built.  Biese 
quotes  several  eighteenth  century  letters  from  German  travelers 
to  show  how  much  ''die  Schlechten  Strassen  "  had  to  do  with  the 

Pyrenees  —  the  eye  could  not  reach  so  far,  but  I  saw  the  mountains  of  Lyonnais 
distinctly,  and  the  sea  by  Marseilles ;  the  Rhone,  too,  was  there  before  me. 
Observing  these  closely,  now  thinking  on  the  things  of  earth,  and  again,  as  if  I 
had  done  with  the  body,  lifting  mv  mind  on  high,  it  occurred  to  me  to  take  out 
the  copy  of  St.  Augustine's  Confessions  that  I  always  kept  with  me ;  a  little 
volume  but  of  unlimited  value  and  charm.  And  I  call  God  to  witness  that  the 
first  words  on  which  I  cast  mine  eyes  were  these  :  'Men  go  to  wonder  at  the 
heights  of  mountains,  the  ocean  floods,  rivers'  long  courses,  ocean's  immensity, 
the  revolutions  of  the  stars, — -and  of  themselves  they  have  no  care  I'  My 
brother  asked  me  what  was  the  matter.  I  bade  him  not  disturb  me.  I  closed 
the  book,  angry  with  myself  for  not  ceasing  to  admire  things  of  earth,  instead 
of  remembering  that  the  human  soul  is  beyond  comparison  the  subject  for 
admiration.  Once  and  again,  as  I  descended,  I  gazed  back,  and  the  lofty 
summit  of  the  mountain  seemed  to  me  scarcely  a  cubit  high  compared  with  the 
sublime  dignity  of  man."  [Translated  and  commented  on  by  McLaughlin  in 
The  Medieval  Feeling  for  Nature.] 

See  also  Biese  :  Die  Entwickelung  des  Naturgeflihls,  p.  151. 

"  Und  somit  eroffnet  uns  dieser  Brief,  mit  seiner  Mischung  reinen,  moder- 
nen  Naturgenusses  und  dogmatisch-asketischer  Riickbesinnung,  einen  Blick  in 
ein  zwie-spaltiges  Herz  eines  an  der  Wendezweier  Zeiten  stehenden  Menschen; 
es  reagiert  gleichsam  der  mittelalterliche  Geist  wider  die  aufkeimende  moderne 
Empfindung." 

Another  significant  utterance  comes  in  1541  in  a  letter  by  Gessner  quoted 
by  Biese,  p.  328.  It  shows  a  recognition  of  the  greatness  and  majesty  of  the 
Alps,  and  has  something  of  the  modern  feeling  : 

"So  lange  mir  Gott  Leben  schenken  wird,  habe  ich  beschlossen,  jahrlich 
einige  Berge  oder  doch  einen  zu  besteigen,  teils  um  die  Gebirgsflora  kennen 
zu  lernen,  teils  um  den  Korper  zo  kraftigen  und  den  Geist  zu  erfrischen.  Wel- 
chen  Genuss  gewahrt  es  nicht  die  ungeheuren  Bergmassen  zu  betrachten  und 
das  Haupt  in  die  Wolken  zu  erheben  !  Wie  stimmt  es  zur  Andacht,  wenn  man 
umringt  ist  von  den  Schneedomen,  die  der  grosse  Weltbaumeister  an  dem 
einen  langen  Schopfungstage  geschaffen  hat  I  Wie  leer  is  doch  das  Leben,  wie 
niedrig  das  Streben  derer,  die  auf  dem  Erdboden  umher  kriechen,  nur  um  zu 
erwerben  und  spiessbiirgerlich  zu  geniessen  !  Ihnen  bleibt  das  irdische  Para- 
dies  verschlossen." 

Biese  thinks  that  Rousseau's  Nouvelle  Heloise  (1761)  "die  Augen  iiber  die 
Herrlichkeiten  der  neu  entdeckten  Alpenwelt  offnete."  It  is  interesting  to  note 
in  this  connection   that   the  beginning  of  enthusiastic  interest  in  the  mountains 


NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  CLASSICAL  POETRY  13 

failure  to  appreciate  the  romantic  beauty  of  the  Alps."  He  finds 
another  partial  explanation  of  the  small  interest  in  mountain 
travel  in  the  fact  that  scientific  study  of  natural  phenomena  such 
as  glaciers,  geological  formations,  mountain  flora  and  fauna,  was 
as  yet  in  its  infancy  and  that  thus  one  whole  class  of  motives  for 
enduring  fatigue  and  braving  difficulties  was  wanting.^  But 
these  two  reasons  do  not  sufficiently  account  for  the  lack  of 
mountain  fervor.  I.t  is  not  merely  good  roads  and  scientific 
enthusiasm  that  bid  men  seek  mountain  solitudes  today.  Pre- 
occupation with  terror  and  fatigue  were  not  the  only  nor  the 
chief  reason  of  this  general  dislike  of  wild  scenery.  The  two 
charges  even  more  persistently  and  definitely  brought  against 
mountains  are  that  they  are  useless,  and  that  they  are  a  deformity 
on  the  surface  of  the  earth.  Now  the  first  of  these  is  but  another 
expression  of  the  dominant  utilitarian  standards  of  value,  and  the 
second  is  an  outcome  of  the  prevailing  desire  for  orderly  and 
systematic  arrangement.  Pronounced  irregularity  of  outline  was 
as  irritating  to  the  artistic  consciousness  as  was  exceptional  license 
in  verse  forms.  Mountains  entered  an  inevitable  protest  against 
the  spirit  that  found  its  highest  pleasure  in  the  petty  symmetrical 
complexities  of  a  typical  eighteenth  century  garden.  That  this 
protest  was  on  a  great  scale  with  accompanying  suggestions  of 
mystery  and  of  a  remote  irresistible  power,  gives  an  added 
reason  why  the  age  turned  thus  decisively  from  forms  of  nature 
to  which  a  romantic  age  yields  fullest  homage.  Thus  the  attitude 
toward  mountains  finds  its  real  explanation  not  so  much  in 
external  conditions  as  in  the  spirit  of  the  times. 

The  place  of  the  ocean  in  the  classical  poetry  is  likewise 
significant.     It  awakened  no   sense  of    elation  as  in  Byron,  no     , 

of  the  English  Lake  district  found  expression  somewhat  earlier  in  Dalton's 
poem  (1755),  Amory's  novel  (1756)  and  Brown's  Letter  and  Rhapsody  (before 
1766  andvprobably  before  1760).  The  earliest  of  the  Ossian  poems  belong  in 
1760.  Goethe's  Briefe  aus  der  Schvveiz  vom  Jahre  1779  are  according  to  Biese 
the  first  full  and  enthusiastic  recognition  by  a  German  poet  of  the  romantic 
charms  of  the  Alps.     Die  Entwickelung,  etc.,  p.  393. 

'Biese:  Die  Entwickelung,  etc.,  pp. 353-355 ;  Lecky  :  History  of  England 
6:180-183. 

^  Biese  :  Die  Entwickelung,  etc.,  pp.  324,  328. 


V 


1 4  TKEA  TMENT  OF  NA  TURK  IN  ENGLISH  POE  TR  V 

sense  of  mysterious  kinship  as  in  Shelley.  It  was  simply  a  waste  of 
waters,  dangerous  at  times,  and  always  wearisome.     Though  more 

often  mentioned  than  the  mountains,  it  received 
The  ocean  an  even  more  narrow  and  conventional  treatment. 

Except  in  some  elaborate  similes  there  are  few 
descriptions  of  more  than  a  line  in  length.  We  find  merely 
causal  mention  by  means  of  stock  epithets,  or  very  short  and 
unmeaning  descriptive  phrases.  To  Waller  the  sea  is  "the 
world's  great  waste,"  "  a  watery  field,"  a  "  watery  wilderness,"  or 
a  "  main,"  liquid,  or  troubled,  or  angry  as  the  case  may  be.' 
Dryden's  epithets  are  hardly  more  felicitous.  He  uses  "  watery"^ 
with  an  insistence  that  finally  becomes  ludicrous.  He  has  one 
or  two  little  ocean  pictures  written  apparently  for  their  own  sake, 
but  his  best  use  of  the  ocean  is  in  similitudes.''  In  succeeding 
poets  the  treatment  of  the  ocean  is  exceedingly  commonplace  and 
unimaginative.  Such  small  interest  as  the  sea  aroused  was  of  a 
prosaic,  utilitarian  sort.  Young's  Sea  Pieces  and  Ocean  may  serve 
as  examples,  and  they  are  little  more  than  eulogies  of  England's 
commercial  and  naval  prowess.  It  is  for  Britain  that  "the  servant 
Ocean  "  "  both  sinks  and  swells."  It  is  solely  with  reference  to 
her  prosperity  that  soft  Zephyr,  keen  Eurus,  Notus,  and  rough 
Boreas  "urge  their  toil." 

"The  main  !     The  main  ! 
Is  Britain's  reign  ; 


The  main  !  the  main  ! 
Be  Briton's  strain,"  ^ 


is  the  unvaried  theme.  The  few  descriptive  passages  are  of 
periods  when  "storms  deface  the  fluid  glass,"  and  seem  to  have 
been  composed  in  accordance  with  Pope's  famous  recipe  for 
poetical  tempests.''     The  most  popular  sea  poem  of  the  eighteenth 

'Waller:    A    Panegyric  to  my   Lord    Protector,  st.  II  ;  Instructions   to   a 
Painter,  1.  228;  On  the  Danger  His  Majesty  Escaped,  11.  5,  63,  156. 

^  Dryden  under  "Similitudes,"  p.  28,  and  "Diction,"  p.  38. 

3  Young  :  The  Merchant,  strain  2,  st.  15  ;  strain  3,  st.  9  ;  strain  8,  st.  13-17. 

4 "For  a  Tempest  take  Eurus,  Zephyr,  Auster  and   Boreas  and  cast  them 
together    in  one  verse;  add    to  these  rain  and    Wghtning,  (iuanfitvi  sufficit:  mix 


NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  CLASSICAL  POETRY  15 

century  was  Falconer's  Shipwreck  written  in  1762.  It  is  a  suffi- 
ciently remarkable  production  when  thought  of  as  the  work  of  a 
common  sailor  but  it  is  ditificult  for  the  modern  reader  to  under- 
stand the  extravagant  praise  bestowed  upon  it  in  its  own  day.' 
Its  tame  and  conventional  love-story,  its  descriptions  of  the 
sylvan  scenes  where  Palemon  and  Anna  gave  pledges  of  undying 
affection,  its  moralizings  on  the  beneficial  effect  of  poetry,  the  evils 
of  war,  the  corrupting  lust  of  gold,  its  long  digression  on  cities 
and  heroes  "renowned  in  antiquity,"  its  invocation  to  the  Muses, 
its  mythology,  its  reverence  for  "sacred  Maro's  art,"  are  allot 
the  commonplace,  classical  order.  There  is  in  the  actual  ship- 
wreck scenes  some  vigorous  writing,  but  it  deals  almost  entirely 
with  the  emotions  of  the  sailors,  and  the  management  of  the  ship. 
It  would  be  difficult  to  find  any  really  effective  lines  descriptive 
of  the  storm  itsdlf.  The  following  quotations  may  stand  as  fairly 
representative  of  the  t)est  passages  : 

"  It  comes  resistless,  and  with  foaming  sweep 
Upturns  the  whitening  surface  of  the  deep." 

"  But  with  redoubling  force  the  tempests  blow, 
And  watery  hills  in  dread  succession  flow." 

"A  sea,  upsurging  with  stupendous  roU."^ 
One  of    the  most    striking  characteristics  of   the  descriptive 
parts  of  the  poem  is   the  daring  and  novel   use  of   technical   sea 
terms.     Such  lines  as, 

"  Reef  top-sails,  reef !  the  master  calls  again. 
The  halyards  and  top-bow-lines  soon  are  gone, 
To  clue-lines  and  reef-tackles  next  they  run. 

Deep  on  her  side,  the  reeling  vessel  lies  : 
Brail  up  the  mizzen  quick  !  the  master  cries, 
Man  the  clue-garnets  !  let  the  main-sheet  fly."^ 

your  clouds  and  billows  well  together  till  they  foam,  and  thicken  your  descrip- 
tion here  and  there  with  a  quicksand.  Brew  your  tempest  well  in  your  head 
before  you  set  it  a  blowing."     [Works,  Vol.  X,  p.  403.] 

'See  Monthly  Review,  Vol.  XXVII,  p.  197,  where  Falconer's  descriptions 
are  said  to  be  equal  to  "anything  in  the  ^neid." 

'Falconer:  The  Shipwreck,  Canto  II,  II.  157,  268,  346. 

3 Falconer:  Shipwreck,  Canto  II  :  148-166. 


V 


1 6  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

are  praised  as  minutely  accurate  but  it  certainly  needs  a  special- 
ist's training  to  understand  them.'  There  is  nothing  new  in 
Falconer's  poem  except  his  use  of  realism  in  describing  the  ship's 
manoeuvres.  The  sea  is,  to  be  sure,  more  prominent  than  we 
have  found  it  in  preceding  poems,  but  it  is  the  same  "desert 
waste,"  the  same  "faithless  deep,"  the  same  "watery  plain,"  and 
is  deformed  by  the  typical  classical  storm.  Strange  as  it  may 
seem,  it  is  yet  true  that  the  poets  of  sea-girt  England  were  very 
slow  in  making  the  discovery  of  the  ocean.*  The  main  points 
in  the  eighteenth  century  conception  of  the  sea,  were  its  useful- 
ness as  a  commercial  highway  and  its  destructive  power  in  storms. 
This  impression  of  irresistible  force  is  sometimes  vivid  enough  to 
result  in  strong  phrasing,  but  the  changing  beauty,  the  majesty, 
the  mysterious  suggestiveness  of  the  sea  found  no  expression  in 
English  classical  poetry.  Even  in  the  poems  that  mark  the 
transition  spirit  the  adequate  word  for  the  sea  is  surprisingly  slow 
to  come. 

In  connection  with  the  failure  to  understand  or  love  the 
mountains   or   the  sea  we  may  note  the   avoidance  of  winter^  or 

the  conception  of  it  as  the  "deformed  wrong  side 
Winter  of      the    year."       Lyttleton     thoroughly     disliked 

"  gloomy  winter's  unauspicious  reign  ""  and  Pope 
said  that  its  bleak  prospects  set  his  very  imagination  a-shivering.s 
Lady  Montagu  called  the  glistening  snows  a  painful  sight,  and 
said  that  the  whole  country  was  in  winter  "deform'd  by  rains 
and   rough  with    blasting  winds."     The  "icy,  cold,    depressing 

'These  descriptions  rouse  Dr.  Clarke  to  a  climax  of  admiration.  "Homer 
has  been  admired  by  some  for  reducing  a  catalogue  of  ships  into  tolerably  flow- 
ing verse ;  but  who,  except  a  poetical  Sailor,  the  nursling  of  Apollo,  educated 
by  Neptune,  would  ever  have  thought  of  versifying  his  own  sea-language  ? 
What  other  poet  would  even  have  dreamt  of  reef-tackles,  haliards,  clue-garnets, 
buntlines,  lashings,  laniards,  and  fifty  other  terms  equally  obnoxious  to  the  soft 
sing-song  of  modern  poetasters."     Monthly  Review,  Vol.  XXVII. 

''Biese  notes  the  same  fact  with  regard  to  German  poetry  (Die  Entwicke- 
lung,  p.  320). 

3Cf.  Veitch  :  Feeling  for  Nature,  Vol.  I,  117. 
*  Lyttleton  :  An  Epistle  to  Mr.  Pope. 
■^  Tope:  Letters.  Vol.  I,  178. 


NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  CLASSICAL  POETRY  i? 

hand"  of  winter,  brought  in  a  season  of  privations,  discomfort, 
and  dangers.  Throughout  the  classical  period  the  typical 
phrases  are  "shuddering  winter,"  "winter's  dreary  gloom,"  "the 
sad,  inverted  year."  Storms  and  blasts  "deface  the  year."  Hail- 
storms "deform  the  flowery  spring."  Clouds  "sadden  the 
inverted  year."     Winter's  "joyless  reign"  is  a  season  marked  by 

"dusky  horrors." 

"Fierce  winter  desolates  the  year, 

Deserts  of  snow  fatigue  the  eye, 

Successive  tempests  bloat  the  sky 

And  gloomy  damps  oppress  the  soul," 

is  a  typical  description.'  Another  indication  of  the  dislike  of 
this  season  is  found  in  a  curious  Prtj"/(?r<7/ by  Washbourne  in 
which  hell  is  represented  as  a  place  where  it  is  "alwaies  winter."' 
It  will  be  observed  later  that  a  sense  of  joy  in  winter  scenes  is 
one  of  the  very  early  indications  of  a  reviving  interest  in  the  out- 
door world. 

Correspondent  with  the  dislike  and  neglect  of  the  grand  and 

the  terrible  in  nature  is  a  similar  feeling  towards  such  aspects  of 

the  external   world  as  especially  suggest  mystery, 

Dislike  of  the    remoteness,  unseen  forces.     That  this  is  true  may 

remote  and  the  ,  ,  .jx^uiu  ^.i,*- 

,  .  be  seen  by  a  study  of  the  sky  phenomena  that 
mysterious  ■'  ■'  -^    ^ 

in  nature  appear,  or   fail    to  appear,  in   this  classical    poetry. 

The  day-time  sky  is  but  briefly  and  vaguely  men- 
tioned or  it  passes  unobserved.  A  phrase  so  imaginative  as 
Blackmore's  "  blue  gulph  of  interposing  sky  "  3  is  rare.     In  general 

'For  illustrative  passages,  see  Montagu:  Letters  and  Works  2:464;  Con- 
greve  :  Tears  of  Amaryllis,  1.  50  ;  Broome  :  Daphnis  and  Lycidas,  1.  47  ;  Shen- 
stone  :  Upon  a  Visit  in  Winter ;  Pitt :  Hymn  to  Apollo  ;  Hughes  :  Myra ; 
Savage  :  Wanderer,  I  :  42,  52  ;  John  Scott :  Elegy  on  Winter  ;  Akenside  :  On 
the  Winter  Solstice. 

^For  a  similar  dislike  of  winter  in  mediaeval  poetry,  see  McLaughlin's 
Studies  in  Medieval  Life  and  Literature,  p.  20.  He  quotes  as  typical  the  fol- 
lowing from  a  Latin  student  song  :  "The  cold  icy  harshness  of  winter,  its  fierce- 
ness, and  dull,  miserable  inactivity." 

3Blackmore:   Creation  2  :  393.     Cf.  Wordsworth's 

"  The  chasm  of  sky  above  my  head 
Is  heaven's  profoundest  azure  ....  an  abyss 
In  which  the  everlasting  stars  abide."     Excursion  3  :  Q4-98. 


l8  TKEATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

it  is  only  the  more  striking  aspects  of  tlie  skv  that  are  noticed, 
such  aspects  as  would  catch  the  attention  of  a 
Day-time  sky  child  or  of  a  mere  casual  observer.  Fleeting, 
delicate  effects  are  unheeded.  Clouds  receive 
little  attention  except  as  they  portend  or  accompany  a 
storm,  and  even  then  their  chief  use  is  in  similitudes. 
Apparently  the  best  known  appearance  of  the  day-time  sky  is  the 
rainbow.  But  though  it  is  often  mentioned  there  is  singularly 
little  variety  in  the  phrases  used  to  describe  it.  A  brief  summary 
of  those  phrases  most  frequently  used  is  interesting:  "Painted 
clouds;'^  "the  clouds' gaudy  bow  ;"  "the  gaudy  heavenly  bow  ;" 
"  the  watery  bow  ;"  "  the  painted  bow  ;"  "painted  tears;"  "the 
gaudy  drapery  of  heaven's  fair  bow  ;  "  "  the  showery  arch  ;"  the 
bow  "painted  by  Iris;"  the  bow  "deck'd  like  a  gaudy  bride ; " 
"the  painted  arch  of  summer  skies,"'  and  so  on  through  a  weari- 
some list  of  kaleidoscopic  combinations  of  the  same  words.  The 
constant  repetition  of  adjectives  so  unmeaning  as  "watery"  and 
"showery,"  or  so  external  and  artificial  as  "gaudy"  and 
"painted"  is  as  characteristic  of  the  general  attitude  toward 
nature  as  is  the  fact  that  the  attention  of  poets  should  have  been 
concentrated  on  the  obvious  beauties  of  the  rainbow  rather  than 
on  the  finer,  more  subtle  charms  of  the  sky.  In  the  same  way 
sunrise,  and  especially  sunset,  are  often  mentioned  and  occa- 
sionally described.  But  there  is  practically  no  discriminating 
and  appreciative  study  of  what  was  actually  to  be  seen  in  the 
heavens.  It  was  more  natural  to  sit  at  home  and  read  the  classics, 
and  then  announce  that  the  golden  god  of  day  "drives  down  his 
flaming  chariot  to  the  sea."^ 

Cf.  also  Dryden's 

"The  abyss  of  heaven,  the  court  of  stars."  (Works,  4:276). 

'  For  illustrative  passages,  see  Waller :  Of  the  Lady ;  Cowley :  Davideis, 
2:440,  Hymn  to  Light,  and  Shortness  of  Life,  st.  11 ;  Young:  Ocean,  st. 
23;  Broome:  Paraphrase  of  Ecclesiastes ;  Yalden :  Hymn  to  Morning;  John 
Philips:  Cyder,  2:293;  Tickeil ;  Prospect  of  Peace;  Gay:  The  Espousal; 
Rowe  :  The  Queen's  Success  ;  Watts  :  Disappointment ;  Pitt :  Verses,  etc.,  etc. 

'For  descript'ions  of  this  sort,  see  Hughes:  Court  of  Neptune;  Prior: 
Solomon,  3:557;  Broome:  Poem  on  Death,  1.  151;  Gay:  Rural  Sports, 
2:323;  Gay:  Wine,  1.  141  ;  Beattie  :  The  Minstrel,  1:17  ;  etc.,  etc. 


NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  CLASSICAL  POETRY  19 

Twilight   had,  as  might   be  expected,  little  charm  or  sugges- 
tiveness.     Moonlight  also  plays  a  most  subordinate  part   in   this 
poetry."     We  seldom  find  anything  more  direct  or 
Twilight  and     yjyj^j  ^^^^1-,  the  time-honored  statement  that  "fair" 
moonlight  ^^  "pale"  Cynthia  "mounts  the  vaulted  sky,"  and 

"adorns  the  niij^ht"  with  her  silver  beams. ^ 

The  night  sky  was  counted  beautiful  because  of  its  stars.     The 
recurrent    conception  is    that    the    azure    heavens   are  gilded  or 
adorned    with  these  orbs   of    gold.     The  favorite 
The  night  words  are  "  spangled  "  and  "  gilded."  ^    In  Young's 

^  Night  Thoughts  we  might  expect  to  find  some  faith- 

ful and  sympathetic  study  of  the  nocturnal  heavens,  but  in  the 
first  eight  books  not  seventy-five  lines  refer  even  remotely  to 
external  nature,  and  in  the  ninth  book  the  stress  is  laid  on  "the 
mora}  emanations  of  the  skies."  In  his  efforts  to  find  a  suffi- 
ciently varied  star  vocabulary,  Young  was  driven  to  the  inven- 
tion of  some  new  phrases,  but  in  no  case  do  they  show  imagina- 

'Cf.  Biese  :  Die  Entwickelung,  etc..  p.  307. 

*The  following  are  illustrative  phrases: 

"  Silver  Cynthia  lights  the  world,"  Garth  :  Claremont,  1.  284  ;  "  Pale 
Cynthia  mounts  the  vaulted  sky,"  Shenstone  :  Elegy  VI  ;  "  Cynthia  came,  rid- 
ing on  her  silver  car,"  Beattie  :  Minstrel,  2:12;  "Cynthia's  silver  white," 
Hughes  :  The  Picture  ;  "  Cynthia,  fair  regent  of  the  night,"  Gay  :  Trivia,  3:  3  ; 
"Cynthia's  silver  ray,"  Addison  :  Imitation  of  Milton  ;  "  Cynthia,  great  Queen 
of  Night,"  Garth  :  Disp.,  5:  282  ;  "  Pale  Cynthia's  melancholy  light,"  Falconer  : 
Shipwreck,  1:311. 

•The  following  are  illustrative  phrases  : 

"  Rich  Spangles,"  Waller  :  Of  the  Queen  ;  "  Spangled  nights,"  Cowley  : 
Davideis,  l :  94  ;  "  Spangled  sphere,"  Cowley  :  The  Extasy  ;  "  Burning  spangles 
of  sidereal  gold,"  Broome  :  Paraphrase  cTEccI.;  "  Freezing  spangles,"  Tickell : 
On  the  Prospect  of  Peace;  "The  sky  spangled  with  a  thousand  eyes,"  Gay  : 
Fables,  Part  I:ii;  "Spangled  pole,"  Pitt :  On  the  death  of  Mr.  Stanhope; 
"Heaven's  gilded  troops,"  Co^y :  Davideis,  1:183;  "Stars  that  gild  the 
gloomy  night,"  Parnell :  Hymn  to  Contentment ;  "  Twinkling  stars  who  gild 
the  skies,"  Watts  :  Sun,  Moon,  etc.;  "  Shooting  star  that  gilds  the  night," 
Somerville  :  Hobbinol,  3:  261  ;  "  Stars  that  gild  the  northern  skies,"  Pitt :  Con- 
gress of  Cambray ;  "  Meteor  that  gilds  the  night,"  Somerville  :  Field  Sports, 
1:139;  "Globes  of  light  in  fields  of  azure  shine,"  Watts :  God's  Dominion; 
"  Orbs  of  gold  in  fields  of  azure  lie,"  Parnell  :  Queen  Anne's  Peace,  1.  38  ;  "  Von 
blue  tract  enriched  with  orbs  of  light,"  Parnell :  David,  1.  358. 


2  o  TREA  TMENT  OF  jVA  TURE  IN  ENGLISH  POE  TR I ' 

tive  power.  They  are  perfunctory  and  stiff  and  indicate  that  his 
mind  was  on  the  "system  of  divinity"  he  meant  his  stars  to  teach 
ratl*er  than  on  the  stars  themselves.'  In  Burnet's  Theory  of  the 
Earth,  a  work  already  quoted~from,  we  find  a  striking,  because  an 
exaggerated  example  of  the  way  an  undue  love  of  order  could 
.modify  one's  aesthetic  perception.  Burnet  enjoyed  the  night 
Is ky  but  he  felt  that  the  stars  might  have  been  more  artistically 
/arranged.  "They  lie  carelessly  scattered  as  if  thev  had  been 
/sown  in  the  heaven  like  seed,  by  handfuls,  and  not  by  a  skilful 
hand  neither.  What  a  beautiful  hemisphere  thev  would  have 
made  if  they  had  been  placed  in  rank  and  order;  if  they  had  all 
been  disposed  into  regular  figures,  and  the  little  ones  set  with 
due  regard  to  the  greater,  and  then  all  finished  and  made  up 
into  one  fair  piece  or  great  composition  according  to  the  rules 
of  art  and  symmetry.  What  a  s.urprising  beauty  this  would  have 
been  to  the  inhabitants  of  the  earth  ?  What  a  lovely  roof  to  our 
little  world  ?  This  indeed  might  have  given  us  some  temptation 
to  have  thought  that  they  had  been  all  made  for  us  ;  but  lest 
any  such  vain  imagination  should  now  enter  into  our  thoughts 
Providence  (besides  more  important  reasons)  seems  on  purpose 
to  have  left  them  under  that  negligence  or  disorder  which  they 
appear  unto  us."^  The  final  impression  from  the  study  of  these 
passages  that  refer  to  stars  or  moonlight  is  that  the  poets  of  this 
period  were  not  unlike  Peter  Bell  into  whose  heart  "nature  ne'er 
could  find  the  way  :  " 

"  Nor  for  the  moon  cared  he  a  tittle, 
And  for  the  stars  he  cared  as  little."  ' 

Night  itself,  aside  from  its  starry  glories,  was  thought  of  but 
to  be  feared  for  its  brown  horrors  and  melancholy  shades.     The 

'  Some    of    Young's     phrases    are    "  rolling    spheres,"    "  tuneful    spheres," 
"revolving  spheres,"  "unnumbered   lustres,"  "  sparks  of  night,"  "  lucid  orbs," 
"radiant  choir,"  "etherial   fires,"  "  mathematic  glories,"  "aerial  racers,"  "mid- 
.  night  counselors,"  "  nocturnal  suns,"  "  etherial  armies,"  "  radiant  lamps,"  "  splen- 
dours," "  ambient  orbs,"  "  nocturnal  sparks,"  "  night's  radiant  scale,"  etc. 

"Burnet:  Theory  of  the  Earth,  Chapter   on    Stars.     Cf.   Prior;  Solomon, 
1:502-511. 

3 Wordsworth:   Peter  Hell. 


NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  CLASSICAL  POETRY  21 

conception  of  daylight  as  useful  and  safe  was  a  part  of  classical 
good  sense.. Ihe  earliest  poem  in  which  we  find  the  beauty  and 

something  of  the  spiritual  power  of  nia:ht  repre- 
^  ^  sented  is  bv  I.ady  Winchelijea.      Later  we  find  the 

characteristic  sentimental  melancholy  of  the  poets  involved  in  a  tis- 
sue of  moonlight  and  mystery,  while  the  faint  colors  and  pearly 
dews  of  the  dawn,  and  the  gentle  sadness  of  evening  shades,  or 
in  extreme  cases,  even  midnight  glooms,  seem  to  be  the  only  fit 
setting  for  struggling  emotions  and  vague  aspirations.  There  are 
also,  as  we  shall  see,  throughout  the  romantic  revival,  not  infre- 
quent studies  of  the  sky,  especially  of  sunrise  and  sunset,  from  what 
we  may  call  the  artist's  point  of  view.  But  all  this  belongs  to 
the  new  spirit  and  is  a  very  evident  break  from  classical  tradi- 
tions. Poetry  in  which  the  classical  note  is  dominant  shows  the 
utmost  coldness  and  barrenness  in  all  that  has  to  do  with  the 
beauty  and  significance  of  the  sky  whether  by  night  or  by  day.' 
In  contrast  to  the  general  turning  away  from  the  grand  or  the 

mysterious  innature  we  find  a  certain  friendly  feeling 
Pleasure  in  the  towards  the  gentler  forms  of  out-door  life.  Spring 
°.  and  summer,  blue  skies,  gently  sloping  hills,  flowery 

valleys,  cool  springs,  and  shady  groves  appear  in 
the  poetry  with  a  frequency  indicative  of  some  real  delight  in 

'Ruskin(Mod.  Painters,  3:248)  comments  on  Dante's  "intense  detestation 
of  all  mist,  rack  of  cloud  or  dimness  of  rain." 

McLaughlin  says  of  clouds,  moonlight,  etc.: 

"  Let  any  reader  of  medieval  poetry  recall  how  imperceptible  a  part  they 
play  in  it,  even  as  plain  facts  of  description.  A  line  in  one  of  the  Latin  songs 
expresses  the  feeling :  their  thought  of  clouds  is  how  delighful  not  to  see  them. 
Moonlight,  too,  is  seldom  dwelt  on  as  poetical ;  the  most  romantic  touch  that 
comes  to  my  mind  with  it,  is  in  Chrestien  de  Troves  where  it  shines  over  the 
reconciliation  of  estranged  lovers.  Just  as  we  find  little  notice  of  sunrise,  sun- 
set, clouds,  and  moon,  we  find  little  feeling  for  the  stars.  They  are  mentioned 
occasionally  in  a  facile  wa}',  thought  scarcely  ever  with  manifest  sentiment." — 
Studies  in  Mediieval  Life  and  Literature,  p.  21. 

Mr.  Symonds  says  of  the  same  period : 
I         "  The  earth  is  felt  chiefly  through  the  delightfulness  of  healthy  sensations. 
Ay    The  stars  and  clouds,  and  tempests  of  the  heavens,  the  ever-recurring  miracle 
of  sunrise,  the  solemn  pageant  of  sunsetting  are    almost   as  though    they  were 


/ 


2  2  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

them.'  But  real  affection  for  nature  even  in  her  idyllic  forms, 
an  affection  the  evident  outgrowth  of  personal  experience,  is  the 
exception  rather  than  the  rule.  When  such  regard  for  nature  is 
apparent,  however  narrow  in  scope,  it  is  rightly  to  be  regarded  as 
an  indication  of  a  new  feeling  towards  the  external  world,  for  in 
general  these  so-called  idyllic  descriptions  are  to  the  last  degree 
artificial  and  unreal.    They  show  that  what  the  poet  really  enjoyed 

I  was  not  so  much  nature  itself,  as  the  creation  of  fanciful  pictures 
of  nature,  the  flowing  combination  of  attractive  details  into  such 
scenes  as  he  would  like  to  find  in  the  country  in  case  he  should 
go  there.  Garth's  description  of  the  Fortunate  Islands  is  typical. 
There 

"  No  blasts  e'er  discompose  the  peaceful  sky, 
The  springs  but  murmur,  and  the  winds  but  sigh. 
The  tuneful  swans  on  gliding  rivers  float 
And  warbling  dirges  die  on  every  note. 
Where  Flora  treads,  her  Zephyr  garlands  flings, 
And  scatters  odors  from  his  purple  wings  ; 
Whilst  birds  from  woodbine  bowers  and  iasmine  groves 
Chant  their  glad  nuptials  and  unenvy'd  loves. 
Mild  seasons,  rising  hills,  and  silent  dales, 
Cool  grottoes,  silver  brooks,  and  flowery  vales, 
Groves  filled  with  palmy  shrubs,  in  pomp  appear, 
And  scent  with  gales  of  sweet  the  circling  year."- 

The  details  of  this  listless,  luxurious  description  are  such  as 
are  combined  and  recombined  in  many  a  picture  of  supposedly 
English    scenes.     The    poet    found   his   pleasure   in   the    vague, 

not  in  this  literature." — J.  A.  Symonds,  Essays  Speculative  and  Suggestive, 
p.  300. 

'  In  commenting  on  mediaeval  out-door  poetry  Vernon  Lee  says(Euphorion 
p.  120): 

"Spring,  spring,  endless  spring — for  three  long  centuries  throughout  the 
world  a  dreary  green  monotony  of  spring.  .  .  .  Moreover  this  medi;tval  spring  is 
the  spring  neither  of  the  shepherd,  nor  of  the  farmer,  nor  of  any  man  to  whom 
spring  brings  work  and  anxiety  and  hope  of  gain  ;  it  is  a  mere  vague  spring 
of  gentle-folk,  or  at  all  events  of  well-to-do  burgesses,  taking  their  pleasure  on 
the  lawns  of  castle  parks." 

■-'("■arth  :   Dispensary  4:  309. 


NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  CLASSICAL  POETRY  23 

highly  generalized  representation  of  such  scenery  as  might  exist 

in    some    imagined   Elysium    or    Garden    of    Eden.     The    final 

effect  on  the   mind  of  the  reader  is  never   one   of 

Description         reality.     All  is  traditional  and  bookish.     Perhaps 

traditional  and    ^,  .  «     ..•  r    u  .lu 

^    ,  .  ^  .  there  is  no  more  eriective  wav  of  showing  the  gen- 

bookish  in  ^00 

character  ^^^^  characteristics  of  these  poetical   descriptions 

than  by  an  accumulation  of  examples.  Since  there 
is  no  danger  of  spoiling  the  poetry,  it  may  be  permissible  for 
purposes  of  emphasis,  to  print  in  italics  such  phrases  as  belong  to 
the  common  poetical  stock.  The  first  passage  is  Rosamond's 
description  of  Woodstock  Park  : 

.^  "  Flowery  mountains, 

Mossy  fountains. 
Shady  woods, 
Crystal  floods."  ' 

Here  the  union  of  phrases,  all  conventional  in  their  character,  is 
entirely  fortuitous  and  undiscriminating.  It  is  impossible  not  to 
feel  that  Addison  picked  up  his  items  at  random,  according  to 
the  scheme  of  his  verse.     Take  next  this  invocation  by  Broome  : 

''Hail  ye  soft  seats  I  ye  limpid  springs  and  floods  \ 
Yeflo2uery  meads,  ye  z'ales  and  woods. 
Ye  limpid  floods  that  ever  murmuring  flow! 
Ye  verdant  meads,  where  flowers  eternal  blow  ! 
Ye  shady  vales,  where  zephyrs  ever  play  '. 
Ye  woods  where  little  warblers  tune  their  lay."  ^ 

Or  Shenstone's  description  of  the  place  of  his  birth  : 

"Romantic  scenes  oi pendent  hills 
And  verdant  vales,  and  falling  rills 
And  mossy  banks,  the  fields  adorn, 
Where  Damon,  simple  swain,  was  born."  ^ 

Or  Lyttleton's  lines: 

'Addison:  Rosamond,  Act  i,  Sc.  i.  Cf.  A  longer  description  in  the  same 
poem  beginning, 

"O  the  soft,  delicious  view."     Act  II.,  Sc.  3. 

^  Broome  :     On'the  Seat  of  War  in  Flanders. 

3Shenstone:  The  Progress  of  Taste  ,3: 7. 


I 
1 


24  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

'*Y{&ct,  limpid fowitams  xoW  through  7f(?w^ry  meads. 
Here  rising  forests  lift  their  verdattt  heads."  ^ 

Or  Congreve's  description  of  the  scenery  along  the  Thames : 
"And  soft  and  still  the  silver  surface  glides, 
The  zephyrs  fan  the  field,  the  ivhispering  breeze 
With  fragrant  breath  remunnurs  through  the  trees^ 

Or  Parnell's 

"  High  sunny  summits,  deeply  shaded  dales. 
Thick  ffiossy  banks,  2ind  flowery  winding  vales."  ^ 

Or  Prior's 

"  The  7'erdant  rising  of  'dx^  flowery  hill, 
The  vale  enamelled 3.nd  the  crystal  rill."  * 

Or  Pope's 

"Her  fate  is  whispered  by  the  gentle  breeze. 
And  told  in  sighs  to  all  the  trembling  trees  ; 
The  trembling  trees  in  every  plain  and  wood, 
Her  fate  remurmur  to  the  silver  flood."  ^ 

Or  Marriott's  ,.^ 

"  The  mimic  voice  repeats  the  gales,  '     ''Pfl- 

That  sigh  along  the  flowery  vales  ;  j 

The  flowery  vales,  [he.  falling  floods,  \ 

The  rising  rocks,  and  waving  woods. 
To  the  sighing  gales  reply 
Redoubling  all  the  harmony."* 

Further  quotation  is  useless.  It  is  easy  to  see  that  these  pas- 
sages have  no  individuality.  They  might  be  transposed  from 
poet  to  poet  without  injustice  either  to  poem  or  poet.  They  are 
like  ready-made  clothing,  cut  out  by  the  quantity  to  fit  the  average 
figure,  and  never  having  any  niceness  or  perfection  of  fit  for  any 
individual  form.  They  are  not  specific.  They  have  no  local 
color.    They  are,  furthermore,  absolutely  superficial.     There  is  no 

'  Lyttleton:  Eclogue  IV. 
'Congreve:  The  Birth  of  the  Muse. 
3parnell:  Health:  An  Eclogue. 

*  Prior  :  Solomon,  3: 158 
5  Pope  :  Winter. 

*  Marriott:   Rinaldo  and  Arniida. 


7^^Ji#^dfa«^g.;^i^|l^r^M^^ 


NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  CLASSICAL  POETRY  25 

hint  of  anything  deeper  than   the   conventional  external   details 

mentioned. 

Throughout  the  classical   age  the  most  genuine   interest  in 

nature  had  to  do  with  parks  and  gardens.     The   formal  garden, 

„     ,  however,  which  held  its  own  in  Ena^land   till  early 

Gardens  .  o  ,  ^ 

in  the  eighteenth  century,  makes  but  a  small  figure 
in  the  poetry  of  the  period.  Its  affinities  were  rather  with  prose. 
In  later  poetry  we  find  many  references  to  the  classical  garden, 
but  they  are  of  the  nature  of  a  scornful  retrospect,  and  they  belong 
to  the  new  spirit.  The  whole  subject  of  gardening  will  be  pre- 
sented in  a  separate  section. 

In  the  study  of  the  evolution  of  the  love  of  nature  from  Waller 
to  Wordsworth  we  mav  perhaps  mark  out  threestages  in  the  atti- 
tude towards  the  e.xternal  world.     The  last  of  these 

Nature  as  a  .  ■     ^u  u       j         .1  .u 

stages  is  the  one  based  on  the  cosmic  sense,  or  the 
storehouse  ° 

of  similitudes     recognition  of  the  essential  unity  between  man  and 

nature.  Of  this  Wordsworth  stands  as  the  first  ade- 
quate representative.  The  second  stage  is  marked  by  the  recog- 
nition of  the  world  about  us  as  beautiful  and  worthy  of  close 
study,  but  this  study  is  detailed  and  external  rather  than  pene- 
trating and  suggestive.  Very  much  of  the  work  of  the  transi- 
tion period  is  of  this  sort.  In  the  first  stage  nature  is  counted  of 
value  chiefly  as  a  storehouse  of  similitudes  illustrative  of  human 
actions  and  passions.  This  first  stage  represents  the  use  of  nature 
most  characteristic  of  the  classical  poetry. 

A  study  of  the  abundant  similitudes  of  this  period  indicates  that 
they  were  drawn  from  a  very  narrow  range  of  natural  facts.  The 
lily,  the  rose,  the  lark,  the  nightingale,  the  wren,  bees,  stars,  drops 
of  dew,  the  sea  in  a  storm,  the  oak  and  the  ivy,  leaves,  the  milky 
way — these  are  the  most  important  sources  of  similitudes.  The 
poet  chose  his  similes  from  facts  already  canonized  by  long  liter- 
ary service,  or  from  the  obvious  facts  of  the  park  or  the  town  gar- 
den. There  is,  in  the  second  place,  little  apparent  effort  to  secure 
accuracy  or  picturesque  effect  in  the  statement  of  the  illustrative 
side  of  the  simile.  The  entire  emphasis  is  on  the  human  fact  to 
to  be  illustrated.  There  is,  therefore,  in  the  third  place,  a  fail- 
ure to  perceive  subtle  or  delicately  true  analogies.    In  most  com- 


26  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY  . 

parisons  the  likeness  is  superficial  or  it  is  far  fetched.  The  sim- 
iles from  nature  were  not  the  literary  expression  of  inner  congrui- 
ties.  They  were  consciously  sought  for  as  a  part  of  the  necessary 
adornment  of  poetry.     Sheridan  says  : 

"  I  often  try'd  in  vain  to  find, 
A  5//;///^  for  womankind, 
A  simile  I  mean  to  fit  'em. 
In  every  circumstance  to  hit  'em. 
Through  every  beast  and  bird  I  went, 
I  ransack'd  every  element  ; 
And  after  peeping  through  all  nature. 
To  find  so  whimsical  a  creature, 
A  r/iC?/^/ presented  to  my  view. 
And  strait  this  parable  I  drew."' 

It  is  this  elaborate  desire  for  similitudes  together  with  the  small 
knowledge  of  nature  that  led  not  only  to  wearisome  iteration  of 
the  same  similes  but  also  to  the  still  more  wearisome  iteration  of 
the  same  points  of  comparison.  A  rose,  for  instance,  is  a  perenni- 
ally beautiful  source  of  comparisons,''  but  in  the  eighteenth  century 
poetry  it  is  used  almost  exclusively  either  with  the  lily  in  matters 
of  the  complexion,  or  by  itself  as  representative  of  a  young 
maiden.  If  she  is  overtaken  by  misfortune  the  rose  is  easily 
blasted  by  northern  winds.  If  she  is  neglected  the  rose  withers 
on  its  stalk.  If  she  weeps  the  rose  bends  its  head  surcharged 
|with  dew.  If  she  dies  young,  the  rosebud  is  blasted  before  it  is 
blown.  The  words  of  the  "  Angry  Rose  "  to  the  poet  gently  satir- 
ize this  prevalence  of  rose  similes. 

"  Of  all  mankind  you  should  not  flout  us  ; 
What  can  the  Poet  do  without  us  ? 
In  every  love-son^  Roses  bloom  ; 
We  lend  you  color  and  perfume."  ^ 

The    nightingale    has    also   a    conventional  use.      He  gener- 
ally represents  the  poet  and  is  either  singing  with  a  thorn  against 

'Sheridan:  New  Simile  for  the  Ladies.     Dr.  Johnson's  Eng.  Poets.  Swift. 

'  For  an  interesting  study  of  the  rose  in  literature  from  Ausonius  to  Waller 
see  "The  Pathos  of  the  Rose  in  Poetry,"  in  Symonds:  Essays,  p.  368. 

Gay;   Fables,  Part  1:45. 


NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  CLASSICAL  POETRY  27 

his  breast,  or  is  engaged  in  a  musical  contest  with  other  birds,  in 
which  contest  he  quickly  silences  all  competitors,  or  is  himself 
driven  away  by  the  clamorous  noise  of  a  crowd  of  common  birds. 
The  lark  has  his  own  established  set  of  applications.  Dryden, 
Waller,  and  Savage  represent  the  poet  as  a  lark  singing  when  the 
sun  shines,  and  Waller  suits  the  figure  to  the  times  by  making  the 
Queen  the  Sun.'  Tickell  called  himself  an  artless  lark.^  Cowley 
professed  himself  emulous  of  the  lark.^  Somerville  is  a  morning 
lark.*  Wycherley  compares  both  Virgil  and  Pope  to  larks. '  Any 
Fair  One  has  a  voice  like  a  lark,  and  to  Dyer's  delighted  ear  the 
maidens  who  spun  English  yarn  sang  like  a  whole  choir  of  larks.* 
Not  infrequently  comparisons  are  drawn  from  the  old  custom  of 
daring  larks  by  mirrors  or  objects  that  would  excite  terror.'  The 
wren  carried  aloft  on  the  eagle's  back  serves  a  variety  of  poetical 
purposes,  but  is  especially  ap:  when  representing  a  needy  poet 
and  some  powerful  patron.**  Bees  are  by  far  the  most  prolific 
source  of  similitude.  Their  number,  their  activity,  their  stings, 
their  honey-making  are  all  recognized  means  of  illustration.' 

To  express  great  numbers  the  most  useful  similes  are  drawn 
from  stars,  pearly  drops  of  dew,  and,  most  frequently,  leaves  in 

'Dryden  :  Works  II:  13.     Waller  "To  the  Queen."     Savage  "To  Bessy." 

2  Tickell :  To  Mr.  Addison. 

3  Cowley:  The  Shortness  of  Life. 
■•Somerville:  Field  Sports. 

5  Wycherley:  To  Mr.  Pope. 

*  Dyer:  The  Fleece. 

7  Dryden:  Works  4  :202,  9:  162. 

^  Dryden  :  Works.  4:214,  5  :  365.  Congreve:  "  On  His  taking  of  Namur;" 
St.  2. 

5  See  as  illustrative  of  the  bee  similtudes  :  Waller:  Battle  of  the  Summer 
Island,  Canto  3,  1.  24;  Cowley:  The  Inconstant,  st.  6;  Milton:  Paradise  Lost, 
1:768;  Dryden:  Works,  9: 145,  172;  2:463;  Hughes:  The  Triumph  of  Peace, 
1.  118;  Prior:  Alma,  3:171;  Pope:  Dunciad,  4:  79;  Pope:  Temple  of  Fame;  Gay: 
Trivia,  2:555;  Congreve:  Ovid's  Art  of  Love  Imitated,  1.  200;  A.  Philips:  To 
James  Craggs,  1.  151;  Stepney:  To  the  Earl  of  Carlisle,  1.  26;  Buckingham: 
Essay  on  Poetry,  1.  255;  Young:  Night  Thoughts,  2  :  462;  6:516;  Akenside: 
Odes,  i:  i,  st.  2;  Dyer:  Fleece;  2:  496;  3:  413;  4:317;  Somerville:  To  Allan  Ram- 
say, 1.  24;  Watts:  Divine  Songs,  XX;  etc. 


2  8  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

autumn.'  An  exceedingly  popular  simile  is  that  of  the  oak  and 
ivy,  or  the  eln)  and  the  vine."  Its  use  is  obvious.  The  rising 
and  the  setting  sun  represent  various  forms  of  prosperity  and 
adversity.^  From  Waller  on,  the  Milky  Way  typifies  virtues  so 
numerous  that  they  shine  in  one  undistinguished  blaze."  A  large 
class  of  similitudes  is  drawn  from  water  in  some  form.  In  this 
respect  Dryden  is  typical.  It  is  surprising  to  observe  how  many 
of  his  metaphors  and  similes  are  based  on  seas,  streams,  and 
storms,^  and  his  most  excellent  use  of  nature  is  in  these  simili- 
tudes, though  after  going  over  many  of  them  one  comes  to 
feel  that  they  are  all  made  upon  much  the  same  pattern.  After 
Dryden  conventional  comparisons  based  on  floods  and  angry 
seas  are  frequent. 

The  customary  form  of  the  river  simile  of  this  period  is  the 
comparison  of  some  man's  character,  or  actions,  or  literary  style 
to  some  historic  rivers  with  marked  features.  Prior  uses  the 
rapid  Volga  to  represent  the  impetuous  "young  Muscovite,"  while 

'  See  as  illustrative:  Cowley:  Davideis,  4:728;  Isaiah,  ch.  34,  st.  2;  Plagues 
of  Egypt,  St.  9;  Milton:  Paradise  Lost,  i:  302;  Dryden:  Works,  Vol.  3,  p.  422,  p. 
354;  Prior:  The  Turtle  and  the  Sparrow,  1.  206;  King:  Art  of  Love,  1.  1700; 
Pope:  Essay  on  Criticism,  2:  109;  Temple  of  Fame,  1.  430;  Young:  Night 
Thoughts,  5:336;    The  Last  Day,  2:183;  Blair:  The  Grave,  1.  469;  etc. 

*  See  as  illustrative:  Waller:  On  Repairing  St.  Paul's,  1.  25;  Cowley: 
Davideis,  2:58;  Milton:  Paradise  Lost,  5:215;  Yalden:  To  his  perjured  Mis- 
tress, 1.  II;  Parnell:  The  Hermit,  1.  41;  Young:  Satire  IV.  1.  i;  Dyer:  The 
Fleece,  2:648;    Halifax:  On  the  Death  of  Charles  H,  1.  77. 

3 See  as  illustrative  Dryden's  use  of  the  sun  in  Works,  4:276;  2:148,  185, 
215,  454,  etc. 

^  See  as  illustrative:  Waller:  To  Amoret;  Addison:  An  Account  of  the 
Greatest  English  Poets;  Spratt:  On  the  Death  of  the  Lord  Protector;  Dryden: 
Works,  11:132;  Cowley:  Clad  all  in  White. 

3  As  illustrative  of  Dryden's  use  of  similitudes  drawn  from  water  note  the  fol- 
lowing: Revenge  and  rage  are  sudden  floods;  joys  are  torrents  that  overflow 
all  banks;  contending  passions  are  tides  that  flow  against  currents;  fame  is  a 
swelling  current;  anger  is  a  dammed  up  stream  that  gets  new  force  by  opposi- 
tion; a  ruined  life,  destroyed  fortunes,  are  shipwrecks;  love  is  like  springtides, 
full  and  high,  or  like  a  flood  that  bursts  through  all  dams,  or  like  a  stream  that 
cannot  return  to  its  fountain,  or  like  tides  that  do  turn;  the  disappointed  lover 
dies  like  an   unfed   stream;  the-  mind  of   a  capricious  tvrant   is  like  a  vast  sea 


NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  CLASSICAL  POETRY  29 

he  compares  his  own  king  to  the  gentle  Thames;'  and  he  com- 
pares the  Romans  to  the  Tyber.*  Pope  scornfully  likens  Curll  to 
the  Uridanus,^  Cowley  compares  Jonathan  to  the  fair  Jordan/ 
Halifax  compares  the  reign  of  Charles  II.  to  the  Thames.^  Arm- 
strong wishes  his  own  style  to  combine  the  qualities  of  the  Tweed 
and  the  Severn.*  Hughes  likened  his  Muse  to  the  wanton  Thames.^ 
Roscommon  thought  a  dull  style  was  like  the  passive  Soane.^ 
Somerville  compared  Allan  Ramsay's  poetry  to  Avona's  silver 
tide.'  Thomson  said  that  De  La  Cour's  numbers  went  gliding 
along  in  "trickling  cadence"  and  were  like  the  flow  of  the 
Euphrates.'"  Chief  among  similes  of  this  sort  is  Denham's  well- 
known  apostrophe  to  the  Thames."     There  is  also  frequent  use  of 

open  to  every  wind  that  blows;  the  army  of  the  enemv  comes  like  the  wind 
broke  loose  upon  the  main;  an  obdurate  foe  is  as  deaf  to  supplication  as  seas 
and  wind  to  sinking  mariners;  an  open  mind  is  a  crystal  brook;  grief  under- 
mines the  soul  as  banks  are  sapped  away  by  streams;  the  voice  of  a  mob  is  like 
winds  that  roar  in  pursuit  of  flying  waves;  unspeakable  anger  is  like  water 
choking  up  the  narrow  vent  of  the  vessel  from  which  it  is  poured;  and  so  on 
through  a  long  list. 

'  Prior:  Carmen  Seculare,  st.  22. 
^  Prior:  Carmen  Seculare,  st.  4. 
3  Pope:  Dunciad,  Bk.  II,  182. 
^Cowley:   Davideis,  2:20. 
sHalifax:  On  the  Death  of  Charles  II,  1.  125. 
^Armstrong:  Benevolence,  1.  152. 
^  Hughes:   Greenwich  Park. 

*  Roscommon:  Essay  on  Translated  V^erse,  1.  316. 
5  Somerville:  An  Epistle  to  Allan  Ramsay,  1.  5. 
'"Thomson:  To  De  La  Cour. 

"Denham  :  Cooper's  Hill. —  The  echoes  of  Denham's  oratorical  antitheses 
are  frequent  enough  to  justify  Swift's  prohibition.     Denham's  lines  are, 

"  O  could  I  flow  like  thee,  and  make  thy  stream 
My  great  example,  as  it  is  my  theme  I 
Though  deep,  yet  clear;  though  gentle  yet  not  duil : 
Strong  without  rage,  without  o'erflowing  full  I " 

Pope's  lines  (Dunciad  3: 169),  beginning, 

"  Flow,  Welsted,  flow  I  like  thine  inspirer.  Beer, 
Tho'  stale,  not  ripe ;  tho'  thin,  yet  never  clear. 

Heady,  not  strong ;  o'erflowing,  tho'  not  full." 


30  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

rivers  in  a  more  general  way,  as  when  Parnell  compares  the 
strains  of  the  Psalmist  to  a  rolling  river/  and  Stanhope  compares 
Pope's  style  to  a  gliding  river,-  and  Addison  compares  Milton's 
poems  to  a  clean  current  showing  an  odious  bottom,^  and  Dry 
den  compares  Sir  Robert  Howard's  style  to  a  mighty  river/  The 
use  of  a  river  as  a  simile  for  life  is  not  infrequent.  For  various 
purposes  the  Nile  was  often  used.  Its  annual  overflow  and  its 
unknown  fountain-head  are  the  chief  characteristics  drawn  upon. 
The  river  similes  seem  as  a  whole  to  be  more  effectively  worked 
out  and  more  gracefully  managed  than  most  of  the  other  similes 
of  the  period,  although  they  have  in  no  case  the  beauty  and  pro- 
found symbolism  characteristic  of  the  river  similes  of  Words- 
worth, Matthew  Arnold,  and  Lowell. 

are  a  parody  rather  than    an   imitation.     The    same   cannot  be  said  of  the  line 
(Temple  of  Fame,  1.  374.) 

"  So  soft,  though  high,  so  loud,  and  yet  so  clear." 

Prior  has  these  lines  (C.  S.  st.  22), 

"  But  her  own  king  she  likens  to  the  Thames, 
With  gentle  course  devolving  fruitful  streams ; 
Serene  yet  strong,  majestic  yet  sedate. 
Swift  without  violence,  without  terror  great." 

Fr.  Knapp  addresses  the  sea  on  the  Irish  coast  in  the  following  lines  (To  M 
Pope.) 

"  Let  me  ne'er  flow  like  thee  !  nor  make  thy  stream 
My  sad  example,  or  my  wretched  theme." 

Mallet  has  the  lines  (cf.  Verbal  Criticism,  1,  228) 

"  Great  without  swelling,  without  meanness  plain  ; 
Serious,  not  silly ;  sportive,  but  not  vain ; 
On  trifles  slight,  on  things  of  use  profound. 
In  quoting  sober,  and  in  judging  sound." 

a  Dyer  we  have  a  fainter  echo  (The  Country  Walk,  1.  6g), 

"Methinks  her  lays  I  hear. 
So  smooth  !  so  sweet !  so  deep  !  so  clear  I  " 

•Parnell:   David,  1.  49. 

2 Stanhope:  Progress  of  Dullness. 

3  Addison:  An  Account  of  the  Greatest  English  Poets. 

■•Dryden:  Works,  Vol.  11,  [).  7. 


NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  CLASSICAL  POETRY  31 

Another  common   form   of  comparison  is  that   in  which  the 
seasons  or  the  various  aspects  of  the  day  are  used   to  describe 
some   person.     One   of  the   happiest   examples   is 
from  MarvelL 


The  seasons 
in  similitude 


"She  summ'd  her  life  up  ev'ry  day, 
Modest  as  morn,  as  midday  bright, 
Gentle  as  ev'ning,  calm  as  night."' 

Later  similes  are  less  graceful,  but  they  usually  have  the  anti- 
thetical form  of  expression. - 

Fairly  numerous  similes  are  drawn  from  trees.     Dryden  gives 
typical  examples,  as, 

"And  lofty  cedars  as  far  upward  shoot 
As  to  the  nether  heavens  thej'  drive  their  root."^ 

This  equal  spread  of  roots  and  branches,  the  heavy  fall  of  a  great 
tree,  and  the  superior  height  of  some  tall  pine  or  cedar,  are  the 
chief  sources  of  similitudes. 

The  abundant  commonplaces,  the  fluent  ineptitudes  of  these 
eighteenth  century  similitudes  did  not  escape  satire  in  their  own 
day.  Now  and  then  a  critic  looked  with  scorn  upon  the  ingeni- 
ous and  exhausting  attempts  of  the  poet  lovers  to  devise  compari- 
sons adequately  expressive  of  the  beauty,  the  fascination,  the 
cruelty,  the  coldness,  the  inconstancy,  of  their  Cynthias  of  the' 
minute.  Butler  thus  notes  the  tendency  of  poor  and  unmeaning 
metaphors  to  advance  in  a  mob  when  female  charms  were  to  be 
depicted  : 

"  In  praising  Chloris,  moons,  and  stars,  and  skies, 
Are  quickly  made  to  match  her  face  and  eyes — 
And  gold  and  rubies,  with  as  little  care, 
To  fit  the  colour  of  her  lips  and  hair ; 
And,  mixing  suns,  and  flowers,  and  pearl,  and  stones. 
Make  them  serve  all  complexions  at  once."'* 

'  Marvell:  An  Epitaph  upon . 


^Cf.  Cowley:  Davideis,  3:553,  and  Pope:  Spring,  1.  81. 
sDryden:  Works,  11:131;  3:390;  2:451. 
■•Butler:  Satire  to  a  Bad  Poet. 


y 


32  TKEA  TMENT  OF  NA  TURE  IN  ENGLISH  FOE  FR  Y 

This  easy  method  of  praising  a  mistress  is  also  humorously  des- 
cribed by  Ambrose  Philips  : 

"  To  blooming  Phyllis  I  a  song  compose, 
And,  for  a  rhyme,  compare  her  to  the  Rose  ; 
Then,  while  my  Fancy  works,  I  write  down  Morn, 
To  paint  the  blush  that  does  her  check  adorn. 
And,  when  the  whiteness  of  her  skin  I  show. 
With  extasy  bethink  myself  of  Snow. 
Thus,  without  pains,  1  tinkle  in  the  close. 
And  sweeten  into  Verse  insipid  Prose."' 

And  Swift  in  his  Apollo's  Edicts  1720,  specifically  prohibits 
the  use  of  some  of  the  more  wearisomely  frequent  similitudes. 
Some  of  the  laws  he  imposes  on  the  poets  of  his  realm  are : 

"  No  simile  shall  be  begun 
With  rising  or  with  setting  sun." 

"No  son  of  mine  shall  e'er  dare  say, 
Aurora  jishered-in  the  day. 
Or  even  name  the  Milky-  Way." 

"  The  bird  of  Jove  shall  toil  no  more 
To  teach  that  humble  wren  to  soar." 

"Nor  let  my  votaries  show  their  skill 
By  aping  lines  from  Cooper's  Hill ;. 
For  know,  I  can  not  bear  to  hear 
The  mimicry  of  'deep,  yet  clear.'  " 

In  general  we  may  say  of  the  similitudes  of  this  period  that 
in  no  other  literary  form  was  nature  so  widely  used,  and  in  no 
other  form  with  so  little  beauty  and  spirit ;  that  they  were  based 
on  an  insufficient  and  inexact  knowledge  of  nature;  and  that  they 
were  used  without  any  sympathetic  sense  of  inner  fitness. 

A  further  characteristic  of  the  use  of  nature  in   the  classical 

period  is  a  personification  of  natural  objects  with 

Artificial  sub-     ^y^^  ulterior  purpose  of  making  them  conscious  of 

ordination  of      ,11  ,•  r  htu 

the  charms  or  emotions  of  some  person.     When 
nature  to  man  ^ 

such  personification  arises  out  of  an  intimate  iden- 
tification   of  man    with   nature,   a   subjective   recognition    of   the 

'Ambrose  Philips:  Epistle  to  a   Eiieml. 


NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  CLASSICAL  POETRY  33 

unity  of  all  existence,  or  when  it  is  the  outgrowth  of  a  supreme 
passion  compelling  the  phenomena  of  nature  into  apparent  sym- 
pathy with  its  own  joy  or  grief,  the  expression  is  sure  to  bear  the 
mark  of  inner  conviction  or  strong  emotion.  But  when  the  per- 
sonification is  manifestly  a  laborious  artistic  device,  when  it  is 
based  on  neither  belief  nor  passion,  it  must  then  be  considered 
the  mark  of  an  age  slightly  touched  by  real  feeling  for  nature. 
And  such,  in  general,  were  the  personifications  so  freely  used  in 
the  English  classical  poetry.  There  is  an  artificiality,  even  a 
grotesqueness  about  some  of  them  that  forbids  even  temporary 
poetic  credence  on  the  part  of  the  reader.  A  good  example  is 
in  Waller's  At  Pens-hurst  where  the  susceptible  deer  and  beeches 
and  clouds  mourn  with  Waller  over  the  -cruelty  of  his  stony- 
hearted Sacharissa.'  At  the  death  of  any  illustrious  man  or  fair 
lady  all  nature  was  convulsed  with  grief.  When  Caelestia  died 
the  rivulets  were  flooded  by  the  tears  of  the  water-gods,  the  brows 
of  the  hills  were  furrowed  by  new  streams,  the  heavens  wept,  sud- 
den damps  overspread  the  plains,  the  lily  hung  its  head,  and 
birds  drooped  their  wings.'  When  Amaryllis  had  informed  nature 
of  the  death  of  Amyntas  all  creation  "began  to  roar  and  howl 
with  horrid  yell."^  When  Thomas  Gunston  died  just  before  he 
had  finished  his  seat  at  Newington,  Watts  declared  that  the  curl- 
ing vines  would  in  grief  untwine  their  amorous  arms,  the  stately 
elms  would  drop  leaves  for  tears,  and  that  even  the  unfinished 
gates  and  buildings  would  weep. 3  In  love-poetry  nature  is  fre- 
quently represented  as  abashed  and  discomfited  before  the  supe- 
rior charms  of  some  fair  nymph.  Aurora  blushes  when  she  sees 
cheeks  more  beauteous  than  her  own.  Lilies  wax  pale  with  envy 
at  a  maiden's  fairness.''     When  bright  Ophelia  comes  lilies  droop 

'  Congreve:  The  Mourning    Muse  of  Alexis,  1.  89.     Cf.  also   Fenton:    Flor- 
elia. 

^Congreve:  'Ihe  Tears  of  Amaryllis  for  Amvntas,  1.  143. 

3  Watts:  A  Funeral  Poem  on  Thomas  Gunston,  1.  252,  and  1.  308. 
Compare  the  indifference  of  nature  to  the  death  of  Lucy  whose  body  is 
"  Rolled  round  in  earth's  diurnal  course 
With  rocks,  and  stones  and  trees." 

Wordsworth:   Lucy. 

"•Covvlev:  Constantia  and  Fhiletus,  st.  5  and  st.  10. 


34  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

and  roses  die  before  their  lofty  rival.'  So  the  sun,  when  he  sees 
the  beautiful  ladies  in  Hyde  Park, 

"  Sets  in  blushes  and  conveys  his  fires 
To  distant  lands."  ^ 

And  when  that  modest  luminary  is  aware  of  the  presence  of  the 
fair  Maria  he 

"  Seems  to  descend  w'lth  greater  care  ; 
And,  lest  she  see  him  go  to  bed, 
In  blushing  clouds  conceales  his  head."'' 

Nature  is  thus  constantly  compelled  into  admiring  submission  to 
some  Delia  or  Phyllis  or  Chloris.  Even  further,  than  this  do  the 
poets  go.  They  make  all  the  beauty  of  nature  a  direct  outcome 
of  the  lady's  charms.  In  the  gardens  at  Pens-hurst  the  peace  and 
glory  of  the  alleys  was  given  by  Dorothea's  more  than  human 
grace."  No  spot  could  resist  the  civilizing  effect  of  her  beauty. 
The  most  charming  example  of  this  sort  of  fanciful  exaggeration 
is  in  Marvell's  verses  on  Maria  and  the  Nunappleton  gardens. 

" '  Tis  she,  that  to  these  gardens  gave 
That  wondrous  beauty  which  they  have  ; 
vShe  straightness  on  the  woods  bestows ; 
To  her  the  meadow  sweetness  owes  ; 
Nothing  could  make  the  river  be 
So  crystal  pure,  but  only  she, 
She  yet  more  pure,  and  straight,  and  fair 
Than  gardens,  woods,  meads,  rivers,  are."^ 

If  later  examples  of  the  subordination  of  nature  to  man  were 
so  graceful  and  quaintly  tender  as  this  poem  of  Marvell's  we  might 
simply  regard  them  as  permissible  instances  of  pathetic  fallacy. 
But  even  taken  at  its  best  we  cannot  fail  to  see  that  this  concep- 
tion of  nature  in  its  relation  to  man  is  quite  unlike  the  dominant 

'Shenstone:  Roxana.  For  an  interesting  variation  of  this  theme  see 
Cowley:  The  Spring. 

^Hughes:  Cupid's  Review,  1.  17. 
3Marvell:  Upon  Appleton  House,  1.  661. 
♦Waller:   At  Pens-liurst. 
SMarvell:   Upon  Appleton  House,  1.  680. 


NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  CLASSICAL  POETRY  35 

conception  in  the  romantic  school.  In  the  one  case  we  have 
the  subordination  of  nature  ;  in  the  other  the  ministry  of  nature. 
A  significant  comparison  might  be  made  between  Marvell's 
Maria,  and  Wordsworth's  Lucy.'  The  one  is  the  typical  fair 
maiden  ruling  over  her  flower  world  and  inspiring  to  beautiful 
life  all  the  gentle  nature  forms  about  her.  The  other  is 
"Nature's  Lady."  Her  whole  being  is  moulded  by  her  sus- 
ceptibility to  the  deeper  influences  of  nature  untouched  by  art. 
Maria  gives  to  the  external  world  the  charm  that  it  has.  Lucy 
is  graced  by  the  spirit  of  nature  with  all  lovely  qualities.  But 
Marvell's  poem  is  really  no  fair  criterion  of  the  use  of  nature 
in  the  classical  l(5ve  and  elegiac  poetry,  for  in  most  of  that  poetry 
the  emotion,  the  passion,  that  would  justify  extravagant  or  even 
impossible  conceptions  is  conspicuously  absent.  The  extrava- 
gance of  speech  stood  as  the  sign  of  an  intensity  of  feeling  that 
did  not  exist.  The  poet  was  not  swept  away  by  overwhelming 
passion.  He  worked  out  his  verses  with  conscious  delibera- 
tion. .\  lady-love  was  one  of  the  necessary  poetical  stage  prop- 
erties, so  the  poet  cast  about  him  for  a  Phyllis  or  an  Amoret, 
and  then  cast  about  him  for  something  to  say  to  her.  Such 
lines  as  Waller's  on  Dorothea,  who  is  so  much  admired  by  the 
plants  that 

"  If  she  sit  down,  with  tops  all  tow'rds  her  bow'd, 
They  round  about  her  into  arbours  crowd  : 
Or  if  she  walks,  in  even  ranks  they  stand, 
LikQ  some  well-marshal'd  and  obsequious  band"  ^ 

are  at  once  felt  to  be  merely  cold,  tasteless  hyperbole.  The 
lines  do  not  win  a  second's  suspension  of  disbelief.  Modes 
of  speech,  a  conception  of  nature,  such  that  high-wrought  emo- 
tion might  justify  it,  or  that  might  be  natural  and  inevitable 
when  the  poet's  thought  was  ruled  by  a  living  mythology, 
became  mere  frigid  conventionalities  when  there  was  no  passion, 
and  when  the  spirits  of  stream  and  wood  no  longer  won  even 
poetic  faith. 

'  Wordsworth  :  Lucy. 
^Waller:  At  Pens-hurst. 


36  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

To  speak  of  the  poetic  diction   of  the  classical   poetry  has 

become  a  commonplace  of  criticism.     By  universal  consent  certain 

^    ^.    ,.  ^.        words   and   phrases  seem  to  have  been  stamped  as 
Poetic  diction  ^  ^ 

reputable,  national,  and  present,  and  to  have  formed 
the  authorized  storehouse  of  poetical  supplies.  If  one  writer  hit 
out  a^good  word  or  phrase,  it  became  common  property  like  air 
or  sunshine,  and  other  writers  did  not  waste  their  time  beating 
the  bush  for  a  different  form  of  words.  Frequently  words  in  the 
accepted  diction  may  be  traced  to  some  Latin  author,  but  the 
point  to  be  noted  here  is  that,  whatever  the  origin  of  the  word, 
its  use  is  incessant.  The  fatal  grip  with  which  certain  words 
clung  to  the  poetical  mind  in  the  classical  perioti  receives  inter- 
esting exemplification  from  a  comparison  of  Chapman's  and 
Pope's  translations  of  Homer.  It  will  be  observed  that  in  frequent 
passages  Pope  uses  the  words  "purple,"  "  deck,"  "adorn,"  and 
"  paint,"  chief  words  in  the  classical  poetic  diction.  But  in  the 
corresponding  passages  in  Chapman  some  other  form  of  words 
is  used.  And  in  most  cases  Pope's  use  of  these  terms  has  no 
warrant  in  the  original.  Likewise,  in  Dryden's  translation  of 
Virgil  the  stock  diction  is  used  when  there  is  no  idea  or  picture 
in  the  Latin  to  call  for  it,  and  when  the  use  of  the  stock  phrase- 
ology results  in  distinct  loss  of  force  or  beauty.  Compare  for 
instance,  Virgil's  vivid  flavescet  and  Dryden's  tame  "  the  fields 
adorn,"  '  used  with  reference  to  harvests  of  ripened  grain.  Or 
compare  iiovis  rubeant  quam  prata  coloribus  and  "  painted  meads  ;"^ 
noctem  ducoitibus  astris,  md  "stars  adorn  the  skies."  ^  We  find 
the  same  spirit  illustrated  in  Dryden's  modernization  of  Chaucer. 
The  fresh,  spontaneous  simplicity  of  a  poet  like  Chaucer  serves 
exceptionally  well  to  show  the  comparatively  insipid  and  feeble 
treatment  of  nature  on  the  part  of  those  poets  who  were  content 
to  take  their  expressions,  as  well  as  their  facts,  at  second  hand. 
"The  briddes  "  becomes  "  the  painted  birds;"  "a  goldfinch"  is 
amplified  into  "a  goldfinch  with  gaudy  pride  of  painted  plumes." 
'•  At  the  sun  upriste  "  becomes 

'Virgil :  Eclogue  IV,  1.  28.     Dryden:  Pastoral  IV,  1.  i^. 
'  Virgil  :  Georgics  4  :  306.     Dryden  :  Georgics  4  :  433. 
3  Virgil  :   Georgics  3  :  156.      Dryden  :  Georgics  3  :  250. 


NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  CLASSICAL  POETRY  37 

"Aurora  had  but  newly  chased  the  niii^ht 
And  purpled  o'er  the  sky  with  blushin?  light."' 

The  same  point  is  well  exemplified  in  some  of  the  changes  made 
by  Percy  in  the  Ballads.     For  instance, 

"As  itt  befell  in  Midsummer  time 
When  burds  singe  sweetlye  on  every  tree" 

was  modernized  to, 

"  When  Flora  with  her  fragrant  flowers 
Bedeckt  the  earth  so  trim  and  gaye, 
And  Neptune  with  his  daintye  showers 
Came  to  present  the  monthe  of  Mave."^ 

Full  illustration  would  require  much  more  space  than  is  here 
at  command,  but  the  point  to  be  made  is  clear,  namely,  that  even 
when  the  poet  had  his  natural  farts  fiirni<;hprl  for  j^^im  he  instinc- 
tivelv  put    them  into  the  mnnlH^  nf  nn   nrrpptpH  popfir  dj^x^'"^ 

By  all  odds  the  most  frequent  and  significant  words  in  this 
stock  poetic  diction,  so  far  as  it  has  to  do  with  the  presentation 
of  nature,  are  indicative  of  dress  or  adornment  in  some  form. 
The  word  "gaint"  is  everywhere.  Snakes  and  lizards  and  birds; 
morning  and  evening ;  gardens,  meadows,  and  fields ;  prospects, 
scenes,  and  landscapes  ;  hills  and  valleys  ;  clouds  and  skies  ;  sun- 
beams and  rainbows ;  rivers  and  waves  ;  and  flowers  from  tulips 
to  white  lilies  —  nothing  escapes.  It  is  little  wonder  that  Somer- 
ville  called  God  "the  Almighty  Painter."^  The  word  "paint" 
is  really  an  Elizabethan  survival,  and  as  such  came  into  the  pos- 
session of  Cowley  whose  use  of  it  is  absolutely  vicious.  A  rain- 
bow is  "painted  tears."  The  wings  of  birds  are  "painted  oars." 
David  after  the  fight  with  the  giant  is  "painted  gay  with  blood," 
and  the  blood  of  the  Egyptians  lost  in  the  Red  Sea  "new paints 
the  waters'  name."*  "Gaudy"  is  another  word  of  frequent 
occurrence.     In  general  the  meaning  was  as  now,  "ostentatiously 

'  Dryden  :  Works  12  :  5  ;    II:  221. 

'^  Percy  :  Reliques  2  :  190. 

3  Somerville  :  To  Anne  Coventry,  1.  25. 

*  Cowley:  The  Shortness  of  Life,  st.  ii;  The  Muse;  Davideis,  2  :29;  The 
Plagues  of  Egypt,  st.  17. 


38  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

fine"  as  we  see  in  Shakespeare's  phrase  " rich  but  not  gaudy," 
and  in  Dryden's  "gaudy  pride  of  painted  plumes."  In  that 
sense  it  was  fitly  applied  to  peacocks,  and  perhaps  even  to  rain- 
bows, but  such  phrases  as  "  a  gaudy  fly,"'  the  "gaudy  plumage"' 
of  falcons;  the  "gaudy  axles  of  the  fixed  stars," ^  the  "  gaudy 
month"  of  May/  the  "gaudy  opening  dawn,"^  the  "gaudy  milky 
soir"*  and  the  "gaudy  Tagus"'  seem  to  have  no  exact  meaning. 
"Bright"  might  often  serve  as  a  synonym,  but  not  in  the  appli- 
cation of  the  word  to  flies  and  falcons.  The  word  "adorn"  is 
likewise  eminently  serviceable.  Fruit  adorns  the  trees,  fleecy 
flocks  adorn  the  hills,  flowers  adorn  the  green,  rainbows  adorn 
clouds,  blades  of  grass  adorn  fields,  vegetables  adorn  gardens, 
Phoebus  adorns  the  west  and  is  himself  adorned  with  all  his  light, 
and  Emma's  eyes  adorn  the  fields  she  looks  on.  "Deek"is 
another  favorite.  Flora's  rich  gifts  deck  the  field,  herbs  deck 
the  spring,  and  corals  deck  the  deep.  Vales,  meadows,  fields, 
mountains,  rivers,  shores,  plains,  paths,  turf,  gardens  —  all  are 
profusely  "damasked"  or  "enamell'd"  or  "embroider'd."  The 
wings  of  butterflies  and  linnets  are  "gilded."  The  rising  sun 
gilds  the  morn  ;  the  gaudy  bow  gilds  the  sky;  gaudy  light  gilds 
the  heavens;  lightning  gilds  the  storm  ;  meteors  and  stars  gild 
the  night ;  and  a  Duchess  gilds  the  rural  sphere  when  she  con- 
descends to  visit  the  country. 

These  milliner-like  words  were  not,  however,  the  only  ones 
that  the  poet  could  claim  as  lawful  heritage.  He  knew,  for 
instance,  that  he  could  always  call  honey  "a  dewy  harvest,"  or 
"balmy  dew,"  or  "  ambrosial  spoils,"  and  have  his  hearers  know 
what  he  meant.  His  birds,  though  almost  necessarily  a  "choir" 
could  be  "feathered"  or  "tuneful"  or  "plumy"  or  "warbling" 
according  to  his  taste.     His  fish  were  easily  labeled  as    "finny," 

'  Blackmore  :   Creation,  6  :  170;   5:101;  Yalden  :  The  Insect. 

'Somerville:  Field  Sports,  1.  161. 

3  Pitt:  Earl  Stanhope;  Psalm  144. 

*Tickell:  Kensington  Garden;  Somerville  :  Rural  Games,  i  :  94. 

5 Dyer:  Gronger  Hill,  1.  65. 

«Dryden  :  Works,  Vol.  VI,  228. 

'  Cowley  :  Ode  2. 


NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  CLASSICAL  POETRY  39 

"scaly,"  or  "watery."  Breezes  were  "whispering,"  "balmy," 
"ambrosial";  zephyrs  were  "gentle,"  "soft,"  and  "bland";  gales 
were  "  odoriferous,"  "wanton,"  "  Elysian";  and  no  other  kinds 
of  winds  blew  except  in  storm  similes.  "  Vernal  "  and  "  ver- 
dant "  come  in  at  every  turn.  From  Waller  on  the  epithet 
"watery"  seems  eminently  satisfactory  to  the  poetic  mind. 
Dryden  may  be  taken  as  illustrative.  To  him  the  ocean  is  a 
"watery  desert,"  a  "watery  deep,"  a  "  watery  plain,"  a  "  watery 
way,"  a  "watery  reign."  The  shore  is  a  "  watery  brink,"  or  a 
"watery  strand."  Fish  are  a  "  watery  line"  or  a  "  watery  race." 
Sea-birds  are  "watery  fowl."  The  launching  of  ships  is  a 
"watery  war."  Streams  are  "watery  floods."  Waves  are 
"  watery  ranks."  '  The  word  occurs  with  wearisome  iteration  in 
succeeding  poets.  It  is  applied  not  only  to  the  sea,  but  to  rivers 
clouds,  and  rain,  to  glades,  meads,  and  flowers,  to  landscapes,  to 
mists,  to  the  sky,  to  the  sun,  and  to  the  rainbow.  The  set 
phrases  for  the  sky  are  such  as  "azure  sky,"  "heaven's  azure," 
"concave  azure,"  "azure  vault,"  "azure  waste,"  "blue  sky," 
"blue  arch,"  "blue  expanse,"  "blue  vault,"  "blue  vacant," 
"blue  serene,"  "  aerial  concave,"  "  aetherial  vault,"  "  aerial  vault," 
"vaulted  sky,"  "vaulted  azure,"  with  such  other  changes  as  may 
be  rung  on  these  words.  The  chief  words  applied  to  stars, 
"  spangle  "  and  "twinkle,"^  have  been  already  noted.  The  usual 
adjectives  for  streams  and  brooks  are  pleasant,  easy  words  like 
"liquid,"  "lucid,"  "limpid,"  "purling,"  "murmuring,"  and 
"bubbling."  "Rural,"  "rustic"  and  "sylvan"  are  epithets 
applied  to  anything  belonging  to  the  country,  whether  to  the 
hours  spent  there,  the  songs  of  the  birds,  the  charming  country- 
maidens  and  their  loves,  their  bowers,  their  bliss,  their  toil. 
"  Flowery  "  is  so  constantly  used  as  descriptive  of  brooks,  bor- 
ders, banks,  vales,  hills,  paths,  plains,  and  meads,  that  it  really 
has  not  much  more  meaning  than  the  definite  article  prefixed  to 

'  Many  of  these  words  occur  in  the  translations  by  Dryden  but  in  none  of 
the  instances  quoted  is  there  any  justification  in  the  Latin  phrase  for  the  adjec- 
tive "watery."  For  instance,  "watery  way  "  =  spumantibus  undis ;  "watery 
reign "  =  a]tum  ;  "watery  deep"=  pelago,  and  so  on  through  the  list." 

2  See  p.  19. 


40  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

a  noun.  "  Vocal "  is  applied  to  vales,  shades,  hills,  shores,  moun- 
tains, grots,  and  woodlands.  "  Pendent"  and  "hanging"  belong 
to  cliffs,  precipices,  mountains,  shades,  and  woods.  "  Headlong  " 
and  "  umbrageous  "  are  favorite  adjectives  for  groves  or  shades 
of  any  sort.  "  Mossy "  applies  to  grottos,  fountains,  streams, 
caves,  turf,  banks,  and  so  on.  "  Gray  "  is  the  usual  descriptive 
word  for  twilight,  and  "brown"  for  night.  "Lawns"  are 
usually  "  dewy." 

Some  words  in  this  poetic  diction  are  no  longer  much  used. 
"Breathing,"  is  an  example.  It  usually  referred  to  the  air  in 
gentle  motion,  as  "breathing  gales,"  but  we  also  find  "breath- 
ing earth,"  referring  to  mists,  and  "breathing  sweets,"  and 
"breathing  flowers"  or  "breathing  roses,"  where  the  reference 
is  to  perfume.  "Maze"  and  "mazy"  are  also  much  used.  The 
Thames  and  other  streams  lead  along  "  mazy  trains."  The  track 
of  the  hare  is  an  "airy  maze."  Paths  meet  in  narrow  mazes 
and  stars  unite  in  a  mazy,  complicated  dance.  Milton's  stream 
flows  with  "mazy  error."  This  word  "error"  is  frequently  used 
in  its  exact  derived  meaning.  In  another  place  Milton  speaks 
of  streams  that  wander  with  "serpent  error."'  Blair  has  a  stream 
that  slides  along  in  "grateful  errors."-  In  Falconer  the  light 
strays  through  the  forest  with  "gay  romantic  error. "^  In  Gay 
the  fly  floats  about  with  "wanton  errors."''  Dyer  winds  along  a 
mazy  path  with  "  error  sweet."  ^  Armstrong's  "error"  leads  him 
through  endless  labyrinths.*  Addison's  waves  roll  in  "restless 
errors,"''  and  Thomson  treads  the  "maze  of  autumn  with  cheer- 
ful error." ^     "Amusive"  is  a  word  applied  by  Pitt'  to  the  ocean, 

'Milton,  Paradise  Lost,  4:239;   7:302. 

2 Blair:  The  Grave. 

3 Falconer:  The  Shipwreck,  1:359. 

*Gay:  Rural  Sports,  1:226. 

5 Dyer:  Ruins  of  Rome,  1.  86. 

*  Armstrong:  Art  of  Preserving  Health,  2:7. 

7 Addison:  To  the  King,  1.  115. 

^Thomson:  Autumn,  626;  cf.  also  Summer,  1.  1574;  Autumn,!.  628. 

9 Pitt:  Ode  to  John  Pitt,  st.  5;  Mallet:  Amyntor  and  Theodora,  1:153; 
Shenstone :  To  a  Lady;  Rural  Elegance,  st,  17. 


NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  CLASSICAL  POETRY  41 

and  by  Mallet  to  clouds;  Shenstone  says  that  country  joys  "amuse 
securely."  It  seems  to  be  half  apologetic  in  tone  in  some  cases  ; 
in  others  it  merely  means  pleasing.  Thomson  used  the  word 
as  verb  or  adjective  several  times.'  We  also  find  it  in  Parnell.^ 
Another  word  of  unusual  application  is  "towering."  When 
used  of  the  Alps  it  is  easily  understood,  but  it  seems  a  heavy  word 
to  apply  to  the  flight  of  hawks,  falcons,  and  eagles,  though  more 
appropriate  there  than  when  applied  to  swans,  and  larks,  and 
even  to  spiders.  It  probably  meant  simply  "ascending." 
"Lawn"  is  used  in  the  sense  of  an  open  glade  in  the  woods. 
Even  so  late  as  Wordsworth  this  meaning  persists. ^  One 
unpleasant  but  not  uncommon  word  is  "sweat."  It  may  be  a 
survival  from  the  metaphysical  conceits,  for  we  find  in  Dr.  Donne 
a  reference  to  the  "sweet  sweat  of  roses,"  and  Cowley  has  flowery 
Hermon  "sweat"  beneath  the  dews  of  night.  Dryden  has 
flowers  sweat  at  night.''     Fenton's  flowers 

"All  pale  and  blighted  lie, 
And  in  cold  sweats  of  sickly  mildew  die."  5 

Even  Gray  talks  about  the  "sickly  dews"*  of  night,  and 
Thomson  has  caverns  "sweat.""  Garth,  as  a  physician,  may 
possibly  be  excused  for  having  the  "sickening  flowers"  drink 
up  the  silver  dew,  and  the  grass  tainted  with  "sickly  sweats  of 
dew,"  but  when  he  has  the  fair  oak  adorned  with  "luscious 
sweats,"*  he  has  gone  into  the  realm  of  aesthetics,  and  no  excuse 
can  prevail. 

The  power  of  fashion  in  words  in  a  conventional  age  is  fur- 
ther shown  by  the  prevalence  of  adjectives  ending  in  "y."  They 
are  favorites  with  Dryden,  and  hold  their  own  steadily  through 
the  century  that  followed.     Beamy,  bloomy,  forky,  branchy,  flamy, 

'  See  Thomson,  p.  87. 

^Parnell:  Hymn  to  Contentment. 

3  Wordsworth  :  Three  Years  She  Grew. 

*Dryden:  Works,  2:360  ;  9:104. 

5  Fenton  :  Florelio,  1.  43. 

*Gray:  Progress  of  Poetry. 

7 Thomson:  Autumn,  1.  843. 

^ Garth:  Dispensary,  2:3;  2:14;  4:260. 


42  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

purply,    steepy,    spumy,    surgy,    foamy,    blady,    dampy,    chinky, 

svveepy,    sheltry,    moony,  paly,  tusky,   heapy,   miny,  saggy,   and 

many  more  occur  where  at  present  there  would  be  no  ending  or 

the  ending  "ing." 

The   stock   poetic   diction   may   serve   also   to   illustrate    the 

indebtedness  of  the  English  classical  poets  to  their  Latin  masters 

in    the    matter    of    phraseology.       Compare,    for 

Imitative  instance,  the  use  of  the  word  earns  in  its  applica- 

character  of  ^.         ^  ,  ,  .  ,  , 

_     ,.  ,        ,  tion   to   montes,   cavernce,  if  unci,  saxa,   umbra  and 
English  poetry  >  >  > 

flumina,  and  the  English  word  "hollow,"  as  applied 
to  caves,  rocks,  mountains,  shores,  valleys,  and  even  to  the  dark. 
Or  compare  the  Latin  use  of  horridus,  meaning  rough,  rugged, 
wild,  with  "horrid,"  in  its  application  to  mountains,  rocks,  and 
thickets.  "Savage  mountains"  and  "shaggy  mountains"  sound 
like  an  echo  from  Virgil's  monies  feri  dLnd  i/iionsi  tnonies.  The, 
fundamental  conception  is  certainly  the  same.  Milton's  "hairy 
thickets"  and  bushes  with  "frizzled  hair"  and  Dryden's  "hairy 
honours  of  the  vine"  are  suggestive  of  the  Latin  use  of  comae  as 
a  trope  for  foliage.  The  word  "honours,"  as  applied  to  foliage 
or  fruits,  is  also  of  Latin  origin.  The  iristis  or  dura  hiems  of 
Virgil  finds  its  echo  in  the  general  epithets  applied  to  winter  in 
English  poetry.  "Deform'd"  and  "inverted"  seem  to  be  mere 
Latin  transcripts.  Dryden  was  fond  of  the  word  "nodding." 
He  used  it  twice  in  translations  in  places  where  some  other 
word  would  more  accurately  represent  the  original.'  In  its 
application  to  mountains  the  word  may,  perhaps,  be  traced  to 
Virgil's  nutaniem  mundum.  Its  further  use  by  Dryden,  Pope, 
Akenside,  Shenstone,  and  others,  with  reference  to  forests, 
rocks,  and  precipices,  is  apparently  a  later  outgrowth  from 
its  application  to  mountains.  "Sylvan  Muse"  and  silvesiris 
musa;  "flowery  plains"  and  florea  rura;  "liquid  fountains" 
and    liquidi  fonies;     "mossy    springs"    and    muscosi  fo/iics    are 

'Virgil:  Georgics,  1:329,  quo  maxuma  motu  Terra  tremit ;  Dryden: 
Georgics,  i :  430,  the  mountains  nod  and  earth's  entrails  tremble  ;  Virgil :  Pas- 
toral 6,  rigidas  motare  cacumina  (juercus ;  Dryden :  Pastoral  6,  nodding 
forests  to  the  numbers  danced;  Cf.  Pope:  Messiah,  nodding  forests  on  the 
mountain  dance,  and  Milton  :  Comus,  1.  38,  nodding  horror  of  the  wood. 


NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  CLASSICAL  POETRY  43 

but  a  few  of  the  many  exact  parallels  between  the  English 
and  Latin  phrases  descriptive  of  scenery.  So,  too,  the  super- 
ficial conception  of  the  various  beauties  of  nature  as  "adorn-  ^ 
ments"  of  the  earth  finds  its  prototype  in  such  expressions  as 
lucidiim  caeli  decus,  applied  to  the  moon,  or  fiulla  ficus,  ornat 
arborem,  or  vitis  lit  arboribus  decori  est,  ut  vitibus  uvae.  An 
instructive  example  of  the  way  in  which  borrowed  epithets 
lose  their  significance  and  become  merely  conventional  is 
the  word  "painted"  in  its  application  to  birds.  In  Virgil 
pictaeqiie  volucrae"-  meant  birds  of  many  colors,  or  of  bright 
colors.  Milton  uses  the  phrase  "painted  wings, "^  referring 
apparently  to  brilliant  birds  in  the  Garden  of  Eden.  But  by 
Pope's  time  the  word  "painted"  had  become  a  stock  epithet 
with  its  connotation  so  vaguely  widened  that  it  would  be  difficult 
to  give  its  exact  meaning.  It  was  simply  indefinitely  associated 
with  birds,  hence  Pope  applied  it  to  the  brown  wings  of  a 
pheasant.^  Shenstone  uses  it  of  the  wings  of  a  fly,'*  and  Parnell 
applies  it  to  the  eye  of  a  peacock,^  and  Waller  to  the  peacock's 
nest.*  In  the  same  way  "painted,"  in  its  application  to  flowers, 
might  easily  be  a  picturesque  descriptive  adjective  for  bright 
blossoms  of  any  sort,  but  being  gradually  more  and  more  closely 
associated  with  flowers,  it  would  lose  its  first  meaning  and  come 
to  be  applied  to  white  lilies  as  well  as  tulips.  "Purple"  is  ~? 
another  borrowed  word.  It  brought  with  it  its  whole  train  of 
Latin  meanings.  In  ordinary  English  speech  "purple"  had  a 
fairly  definite  reference  to  a  specific  color  composed  of  red  and 
blue,  but  in  the  English  classical  poetry  it  was  used  in  exactly 
the  Latin  sense.  The  fundamental  idea  of  purpureas  was  color, 
but  a  secondary  meaning  was  brightness  ;  in  its  twofold  applica- 
tion it  was  a  descriptive  epithet  applicable  to  light,^  to  flowers  in 

'Virgil:  Georgics,  3:  243.     ^neid,  4:525. 

2 Milton:  Paradise  Lost,  7:434. 

3Pope:  Windsor  Forest,  1.  118.     Cf.  Note  in  Courthope  edition. 

*  Shenstone  :  Virtuoso. 

5 Parnell:  Anacreontic. 

^Waller:  On  a  Brede  of  Divers  Colors. 

7  Hugo  Bliimner :  Die  Farbenbezeichnungen  bei  den  Romischen  Dichtej^i^^ 


44  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

general,  to  roses,  spring,  or  morning.  The  English  phrases, 
"morning's  purple  wings,"  "the  purple  day,"  "the  purple  east," 
"the  purpled  air,"  "ground  empurpled  with  roses,"  "the  purple 
spring,"  "purple  daffodils,"  are  such  as  would  serve  the  purpose 
of  a  modern  impressionist  painter,  but  in  eighteenth  century 
poetry  they  chiefly  indicate  a  knowledge  of  the  classics.  They 
were  clearly  imitative  phrases. 

In  individual  cases  the  charge  of  imitation  is  a  hazardous  one 
to  make  because  so  difficult  to  prove.  However  close  the  paral- 
lelism it  is  always  possible  to  believe  that  two  persons  thought  of 
the  same  thing  independently.  Where  a  whole  literary  period  is 
under  consideration  as  here,  all  that  can  be  said  is  that  the  simi- 
larities between  the  English  and  the  Latin  forms  of  expression  are 
numerous  and  striking,  that  the  phrases  are  frequently  such  as 
would  not  naturally  occur  to  an  English  poet,  that  the  English 
poets  had  little  first-hand  knowledge  of  nature,  and  that  thev 
knew  their  Virgil  and  Horace  by  heart.  But  after  all,  the  inner 
conviction  of  imitation  with  which  one  turns  from  a  consecutive 
reading  of  the  two  literatures  is  a  more  legitimate  proof,  perhaps, 
than  even  a  liberal  assemblage  of  debatable  specific  cases. 

The  imitation  is  not  confined  to  diction.  Many  of  the  favor- 
ite similes,  especially  those  drawn  from  trees,  bees,  leaves  in 
autumn,  the  oak  and  vine,  angry  seas,  and  streams,  have  a  Latin 
cast.  They  seem  to  be  worked  out  on  Virgilian  models.  As  one 
reads,  it  is  impossible  not  to  feel  that  the  English  poet  owed 
more  to  his  classical  library  than  to  his  knowledge  of  nature. 
One  striking  mark  of  imitation  is  the  prevalence  of  the  artificial 
cumulative  simile  so  common  in  Virgil. 

The  details  in  the  Latin  pastoral  poetry  are  also  freely  trans- 
ferred to  descriptions  of  English  scenes.  The  poet  could  not 
describe  English  meadows  without  a  desire  to  transplant  therein 
some  fairer  blooms  from  "the  unenvious  fields  of  Greece  and 

pp.  184-198.  Blumner  shows  that  Trop^i^peos  was  used  bv  the  Greeks  with  widely 
varying  meanings,  and  adds,  "  Ganz  ahnlich  ist  der  Gebraiich,  den  die  romischen 
Dichter  von  purpureas  machen  nur  zweilfellos  in  viel  weniger  urspriinglicher 
Weise."  He  says  further  that  the  Latin  poetical  use  of  purpureas  did  not 
follow  the  speech  of  daily  life. 


NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  CLASSICAL  POETRY  45 

Rome."  English  rivers,  skies,  seas,  plains,  hills,  and  valleys 
were  presided  over  by  classic  deities.  Ceres,  Pomona,  and  Bac-  / 
chus.  Dryads  and  Naiads,  were  as  omnipotent  as  if  they  were  still  - 
believed  in.  The  hardy  English  shepherd  was  transformed  into 
a  languid  swain  eternally  seeking  mossy  caves  as  a  refuge  against 
burning  heats.  His  chief  occupation  was  to  lie  beside  some  mur- 
muring rill,  or  beneath  some  spreading  beech,  or  under  some 
myrtle  hedge,  and  charm  the  listening  vale  with  love  ditties 
played  on  his  pipe  :  or,  for  variety,  to  enter  into  some  amoebean 
contest  with  a  neighboring  swain  concerning  the  rival  beauty  of 
their  respective  nymphs.  His  chief  troubles  were  the  coyness, 
fickleness,  and  desertion  of  this  same  much-praised  Phyllis  or 
Chloris,'  and  the  occasional  incursion  of  nightly  predatory  wolves 
among  his  fleecy  flocks.  And  all  this  calmly  in  the  face  of  the 
fact  that  there  were  no  predatory  animals  in  English  forests,  that 
the  chief  enemies  of  the  English  shepherd  were  cold  and  storm, 
and  that  he  would  be  much  more  likely  to  seek  a  sunny  bank 
than  a  cooling  grot.  The  classical  English  poets  not  only  knew 
nothing  of  the  genuine  English  shepherd  such  as  Wordsworth's 
Michael,  but  they  did  not  wish  to  know  of  him.  It  was  their  ambi- 
tion to  follow  in  the  path  marked  out  by  the  Mantuan  swain.  If 
they  could  write  so  that  every  line  would  "confess  Virgil'"' they 

'This  constant  use  of  Latin  and  Greek  names  for  English  peasants  was 
frequently  satirized.     Dryden  makes  Limberham  say  to  Brainsick, 

"But  why,  of  all  names, would  you  choose  a  Phyllis?  There  have  been  so 
many  Phyllises  in  song  I  thought  there  was  not  another  to  be  had  for  love 
or  money." — Works,  Vol.  6,  p.  62. 

Cf.  Watts :  Meditation  in  a  Grove. 

"No  Phyllis  shall  infect  the  air 
With  her  unhallow'd  name." 
'Compare  Ridley's  characteristic  commendation  of  Christopher  Pitt's  poems, 

"  In  every  line,  in  every  word  you  speak 
I  read  the  Roman  and  confess  the  Greek," 

and  Pitt's  precept  in  Vida's  Art  of  Poetry,  1:102, 

"  Explore  the  antients  with  a  watchful  eye, 
Lay  all  their  charms  and  elegancies  by, 
Then  to  their  use  the  precious  spoils  apply." 


V 


46  TREATMENl^  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

were  satisfied.  Pope  said  that  it  was  the  poet's  office  to  repre- 
sent shepherds  not  as  they  are  but  as  they  may  be  conceived  to 
have  been  in  some  past  golden  age."  That  golden  age  existed 
apparently  in  the  Italy  of  Virgil  and  the  Greece  of  Theocritus. 
Dryden  gave  the  acceptable  advice, 

"  For  guides  take  Virgil  and  read  Theocrite. 
By  them  alone  you'll  easily  comprehend 
How  poets,  without  shame,  may  condescend 
To  sing  of  gardens,  fields,  of  flowers,  and  fruit, 
To  stir  up  shepherds,  and  to  tune  the  flute."  ^ 

Except  in  burlesque  no  poet  of  that  day  cared  to  change 
"Strephon  and  Phyllis"  into  "Tom  and  Bess."  The  great  effort 
was  to  dignify  humble  themes  by  constant  reference  to  the  great 
poems  of  the  past. 

The  general  structure  of  many  English  poems  was  evidently 
conformed  to  Latin  models.  A  comparison  of  the  Pastorals  of 
Pope,  Gay,  and  Ambrose  Philips  would  sufficiently  establish  this 
point. 3 

Throughout  the  classical  poetry  of  nature  there  is  little  reli- 
ance on  first-hand  observation.  There  was  safety  and  dignity  in 
following  Dick  Minim's  advice,  "When  you  sit  dovvn  to  write 
think  what  your  favorite  author  would  say  under  such  and  such 
circumstances,"  and  the  favorite  authors  were  sure  to  be  Virgil, 
and  Horace,  and  Ovid. 

The  imitations  were  not,  however,  exclusively  from  the  Latin 
authors.  Often  the  Latin  borrowings  came  at  second-hand  from 
other  English  poets,  and  English  poets  borrowed  freely  from 
each  other.  A  single  instance  may  be  cited  to  show  how  an 
insipid  and  almost  unmeaning  collocation  of  words  could  hold 
its  own  and  be  re-echoed  from  poet  to  poet.     Addison's  couplet, 

"  My  humble  verse  demands  a  softer  theme, 
A  painted  meadow,  or  a  purling  stream,"'* 

'  Pope:  Discourse  on  Pastoral  Poetry. 

2  Dryden:  Works,  15:231. 

3  Compare  especially  Gay's  Monday,  Pope's  Spring,  and  Virgil's  Third 
Eclogue.     Also  Gay's  Thursday  and  Virgil's  Eighth  Eclogue. 

*  Addison:   Letter  from  Italy  {1701). 


or 

TJNIVL. 


.<>/• 


£5f(rO-!  i 


NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  CLASSICAL  POETRY 

was  imitated  by  Tickell  in, 

"  By  Nature  fitted  for  an  humble  theme 
A  painted  prospect,  or  a  murmuring  stream,"' 

and  twice  by  Pope  in, 

"  Enough  to  shame  the  gentlest  bard  that  sings 
Of  painted  meadows  and  of  purling  springs,"* 


47 


and 


"  Like  gentle  Fanny's  was  my  flowery  theme, 
A  painted  mistress  or  a  purling  stream."^ 

Compare  also, 

"  Most  of  our  poets  choose  their  early  theme 
A  flowery  meadow  or  a  purling  stream. ""t 

But  one  other  sort  of  imitation  can  be  noticed  here,  and  that 
is  a  natural  outcome  from  the  use  of  the  rhymed  couplet.  It  is 
what  Pope  calls  "  the  sure  return  of  still  expected  rh3'mes."  The 
common  rhyme'  of  "  stream "  and  "  theme  "  has  already  been 
noted.     Pope  calls  attention  to  others  : 

"Whene'er  you  find  the  '  cooling  western  breeze  ' 
In  the  next  line  it  'whispers  through  the  trees.' 
If  crystal  streams  '  with  pleasing  murmurs  creep  ' 
The  reader's  threatened,  not  in  vain,  with  'sleep.'  "^ 

The  last  reference  is  an  ungracious  hit  at  one  of  Wycherley's 
poems  recommendatory  of  Pope's  Pastorals,  but  the  rhyme  of 
"  breeze  "  and  "  trees  "  is  certainly  of  a  bewildering,  dizzying 
frequency.  There  is  a  stanza  in  point  in  one  of  the  doubtful 
poems  attributed  to  Gray. 

"  First  when  Pastorals  I  read. 

Purling  streams  and  cooling  breezes 

'Tickell:  Oxford  (1707). 

*Pope:  January  and  May,  1.  454. 

3  Pope:  Epistle  to  Dr.  Arbuthnot,  I.  149. 

■•  William  Thompson:  To  the  Author  of  Leonidas. 

S  Pope  :  Essay  on  Criticism,  i  :  350. 


48  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

I  only  wrote  of ;  and  my  head 

Rhimed  on,  reclined  beneath  the  Tree-zes."' 

One  cause  of  the  artificial  and  forced  effect  of  the  classical 
poetry  of  nature  is  undoubtedly  the  sameness  of  impression  pro- 
ducted  by  this  frequent  recurrence  of  the  same  rhymes. 

In  the  foregoing  study  of  the  attitude  of  the  classical  poets 
towards  nature  certain  dominant  characteristics  have  beeen  indi- 
cated, all  of  them  pointing  to  a  lack  of  interest  in 

Man  the  nature.     The  attention  of  the  age  was  concentrated 

supreme  inter-  ,        ,              xt   ^       ^          l    .       ^              .1 

,    ,  ,,  elsewhere.     Not  nature,  but  man  was  the  supreme 

est  of  the  age  ^ 

interest.  And  the  limitations  must  be  drawn  even 
more  closely  for  the  interest  was  not  in  man  as  man  according  to 
the  democratic  spirit  of  the  succeeding  romantic  age,  nor  in  man 
as  a  creature  of  daring,  of  wild  passions,  of  lawless  enthusiasms, 
of  boundless  energies,  as  in  the  preceding  Elizabethan  age,  but 
man  as  part  of  a  well-organized  social  system.  Man  in  London 
was  the  central  thought  of  the  age.  This  supremacy  of  the  inter- 
est in  man  accounts  for  the  acknowledged  preference  for  city  life. 
In  the  country  bad  roads  and  poor  conveyances  effectually 
separated  men  from  each  other.  In  the  city  the  wits  of  the  coffee- 
house and  the  beaux  and  belles  of  the  drawing-room  were  able 
to  gain  the  social  converse  and  mutual  admiration  necessar}-  to 
their  happiness.  What  they  had  to  say  to  each  other  was  incom- 
parably more  interesting  than  any  revelation  from  nature's  soli- 
tary places.  Men  feared  and  disliked  mountains  and  the  sea 
because  these  natural  features  stood  as  obstacles  to  the  easy  pursuit 
of  many  pleasures,  and  because  in  the  presence  of  forces  so  vast 
and  elemental  men  felt  themselves  overawed  and  threatened. 
What  they  could  not  understand  and  conquer  was  their  foe. 
They  turned  uneasily  from  all  forms  of  nature  that  suggest 
mysterious,  unseen  forces  over  which  man  has  no  control.  The 
limitless  spaces  of  the  sky,  the  "solemn  midnight's  tingling  silent- 
ness,"  the  magical  charm  of  moonlight,  whatever  is  infinite  in  its 
suggestiveness,  drawing  the  spirit  of  man  into  the  vast,  shadowy 
realms  of  the  unknown,  filled  them  with  dismay.     In   nature   as 

'  Gray :  Ode. 


1 


NATURE  LV  ENGLISH  CLASSICAL  POETRY  49 

in  everything  else  they  instinctively  confined  themselves  to  such 
portions  of  truth  as  they  could  clearly  state  and  use.  The  kind 
of  nature  they  loved  was  that  in_vvhich  man  was  easily  supreme. 


Their  delight  in  cultivated  rural  England  was  largely  based  on  its 
power  of  ministering  to  man's  ease  and  physical  well-being.' 
Their  delight  in  the  formal  garden  grew  out  of  their  pleasure  in 
seeing  the  triumphal  expenditure  of  human  effort.     There  nature 

'  In  this  connection  see  the  following  passages  from  Ruskin,  Humboldt, 
and  Veitch  on  nature  in  the  poetry  of  the  ancients  : 

"Thus,  as  far  as  I  recollect,  without  a  single  exception,  every  Homeric 
landscape,  intended  to  be  beautiful,  is  composed  of  a  fountain,  a  meadow,  and 
a  shady  grove.  This  ideal  is  very  interestingly  marked,  as  intended  for  a 
perfect  one,  in  the  fifth  book  of  the  Odyssey,  when  Mercury  himself  stops  for 
a  moment,  though  on  a  message,  to  look  on  a  landscape  '  which  even  an  immor- 
tal might  be  gladdened  to  behold '.  .  ,  .  Now  the  notable  things  in  this 
description  are,  first,  the  evident  subservience  of  the  whole  landscape  to  human 
comfort,  to  the  foot,  the  taste,  or  the  smell ;  and,  secondly,  that  throughout  the 
passage  there  is  not  a  single  figurative  word  expressive  of  the  things  being  in 
any  wise  other  than  plain  grass,  fruit  or  flower.  ...  If  we  glance  through  the 
references  to  pleasant  landscape  which  occur  in  other  parts  of  the  Odyssey,  we 
shall  alwa3^s  be  struck  by  this  quiet  subjection  of  their  every  feature  to  human 
service,  and  bv  the  excessive  similarity  in  the  scenes.  Perhaps  the  spot 
intended,  after  this,  to  be  most  perfect,  may  be  the  garden  of  Alcinous,  where 
the  principal  ideas  are,  still  more  definitely,  order,  symmetry,  and  fruitfulness." 
— Ruskin:  Modern  Painters,  Chapter  on  "Classical  Landscape." 

"  Homer  looks  on  nature  as  it  affects  man —  its  power  of  sustaining  life,  its 
subserviency  to  our  physical  wants.  Hence  the  side  of  nature  which  is  lovingly 
regarded  by  him  is  not  mountain,  or  rock,  or  wild  sea  —  all  fruitless  and  barren 
—  but  flat  soft  meadow-land,  diversified,  it  may  be,  with  tree  and  fountain, 
filled  with  waving  grass  —  good  pasture-land  for  nourishing  the  useful  ox,  or 
cow,  or  sheep."  "  In  Theocritus  .  .  .  we  do  not  go  beyond  the  softer  side 
.  .  .  the  accessories  of  the  shepherd's  life  faithfully  noted."  "The  aspect  of 
nature  which  Virgil  loved  was  the  soft  and  pastoral  side  of  Italian  scenery.  In 
so  far  as  he  has  depicted  free  nature,  it  is  seen  almost  wholly  from  the  human 
side,  and  in  its  relation  to  man's  works,  life  and  action." — Veitch  :  The  Feeling 
for  Nature  in  Scottish  Poetry,  Vol.  I,  pp.  88-91. 

"  Es  is  oftmals  ausgesprochen  worden,  dass  die  Freude  an  der  Natur,  wenn 
auch  dem  Alterthume  nicht  fremd,  doch  in  ihm  als  Ausdruck  des  Gefiihls  spar- 
samer  und  minder  lebhaft  gewesen  sei  denn  in  der  neueren  Zeit.  ...  In  dem 
hellenischen  Alterthum,  .  .  .  das  eigentlich  Naturbeschreibende  zeigt  sich 
dann  nur  als  ein  Beiwerk,  weil  in  der  griechischen  Kunstbildung  sich  alles 
gleichsam  im  Kreise  der  Menscheit  bewegt. 


50  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

was  "rhymed  and  twisted  and  harmonized"  at  pleasure.  Man's 
supremacy  was  nowhere  else  more  effectually  acknowledged. 
Not  art  concealed  but  art  manifest  was  the  ideal.  Evelyn's 
enjoyment  of  French  and  Italian  gardens  is  almost  always 
based  on  his  pleasure  in  some  mechanical  device  whereby  man 
had  conquered  nature.'  What  Cowley  most  enjoyed  in  the 
country  was  the  sense  of  his  own  skill  and  mastery.  The  "best 
natured"  satisfaction  of  all  is,  he  says,  the  husbandman's  delight 
in  "looking  round  about  him  and  seeing  nothing  but  the  effects 
and  improvements  of  his  own  art.'""  The  supremacy  of  the  interest 
in  man  is  further  explanatory  of  the  facts  already  sufficiently  com- 
mented upon  that  the  most  abundant  use  of  nature  was  in  simil- 

"  Beschreibung  der  Natur  in  ihrer  gestaltenreichen  Mannigfaltigkeit,  Natur- 
dichtung  als  ein  abgesonderter  Zweig  der  Litteratur,  war  den  Griechen  vollig 
fremd.  Auch  die  Landschaft  erscheint  bei  ihnen  nur  als  Hintergrund  eines 
Gemaldes,  vor  dam  menschliche  Gestalten  sich  bewegen.  Leidenschaften  in 
Thaten  ausbrechend  fesselten  fast  allein  den  Sinn.  Ein  bewegtes  offentliches 
Volksleben  zog  ab  von  der  dumpfen,  schwarmerischen  Versenkung  in  das  stille 
Treiben  der  Natur;  ja  den  physischen  Erscheinungen 'wurde  immer  eine 
Beziehung  auf  die  Menschheit  beigelegt,  sei  es  in  den  Verhaltnissen  der 
ausseren  Gestaltung  oder  der  inneren  anregenden  Thatkraft.  Fast  nur  solche 
Beziehungen  machten  die  Naturbetrachung  wUrdig,  unter  der  sinnigen  Form 
des  Gleichnisses,  als  abegesonderte  kleine  Gemalde  voll  objecliver  Lebendigkeit 
in  das  Gebiet  der  Dichtung  gezogen  zu  werden." — Kosmos.     Vol.  2,  pp.  5,  6. 

'  In  this  connection  compare  the  following  significant  passage  from  Taine  : 
"  Rien  ne  m'a  plus  interesse  dans  les  villas  romaines  que  ieurs  anciens  maitres. 
Les  naturalistes  le  savent,  on  comprend  tres-bien  I'animal  d'apres  la  coquille. 
L'endroit  oil  j"ai  commence  a  le  comprendre  est  la  villa  Albani.  .  .  .  Cette 
villa  est  un  debris,  comme  le  squellette  fossile  d'une  vie  qui  a  dure  deux  slecles, 
et  dont  le  principal  plaisir  consistait  dans  la  conversation,  dans  la  belle  represen- 
tation, dans  les  habitudes  de  salon,  et  d'antichambre.  L'homme  ne  s'interessait 
pas  aux  objets  inanimes,  il  ne  leur  reconnaissaitpas  une  ame  et  une  beaute  propre; 
lis  ne  servaient  que  de  fond  au  tableau,  fond  vague  et  d'  importance  moins  qu' 
accessoire.  Toute  I'attention  etait  occupee  par  le  tableau  lui-meme,  c'est-a- 
dire  par  I'intrigue  et  le  drame  humain.  Pour  reporter  quelque  partie  de  cette 
attention  sur  les  arbres,  les  eaux,  le  paysage,  il  fallait  les  humaniser,  leur  oter, 
leur  form  et  leur  disposition  naturelle,  leur  air  '  sauvage,'  Tapparance  du 
desordre  et  du  desert,  leur  donner  autant  que  possible  I'aspect  d'un  salon,  d'un 
galerie  a  colonnades,  d'une  grande  cour  de  palais." — Taine  :  Voyage  en  Italie, 
Tome  I,  pp.  231,  232.     (Paris.     Librairie  Hatchette  et  Cie,  1893.) 

''Cowley:  Of  Agriculture. 


NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  CLASSICAL  POETRY  5^ 

itudes  for  human  qualities  and  passions,  that  these  similitudes 
were  drawn  from  a  surprisingly  small  number  of  natural  phe- 
nomena, and  that  the  nature  side  of  the  similitudes  was  often 
carelessly  and  ignorantly  handled.  The  dominance  of  man  is  also 
back  of  the  conception  of  nature  as  stirred  by  man's  joys  and 
woes,  and  plunged  into  despair  by  his  death.  Nature  is,  at 
the  utmost,  but  the  comparatively  unimportant  background  against 
which  man  acts  his  part,  and  there  is  seldom  any  effort  to  suit 
the  background  to  the  picture.  There  is  likewise  significance  in 
the  twofold  fact  that  in  the  set  poetic  diction  there  are  many 
words  and  phrases  relating  to  nature  and  comparatively  few  relat- 
int{  to  man.  Where  there  was  a  concentration  of  interest  the 
vividness  of  the  conception  demanded  new  and  original  forms  of 
speech,  while  the  stock  diction,  like  cant  in  religious  expression, 
showed  the  absence  of  genuine  feeling.  It  is  in  Pope's  Pastor- 
als not  in  The  Diinciad  that  we  find  stock  words,  conventional 
phrases,  and  hereditary  similes. 

In    sunimary    we   may    note    that   the    characteristic    attitude 
Summary  towards  nature  in  the  classical  period  is  marked  by, 

a.  Prevailing  dislike  or  neglect  of  the  grand  or  the  terrible  in 
nature  as  mountains,  the  ocean,  storms,  and  winter^ 

b.  A  similar  dislike  or  neglect  of  the  mysterious  or  the  remote, 
as  the  various  phenomena  of  the  sky. 

c.  A  certain  apparent  friendliness  towards  the  gentle,  pleasant, 
serviceable  forms  of  nature  as  in  rural  cultivated  England,  in 
spring  and  summer,  in  good  \^eather,  in  various  forms  of 
horticulture. 

d.  An  especial  pleasure  in  nature  ordered  and  made  symmetrical 
by  art,  as  in  formal  gardens  and  parks. 

e.  Descriptions  of  a  highly  generalized  sort  with  almost  no 
touches  of  local  color. 

f.  Full  but  conventional  and  superficial  use  of  nature  in  simili- 
tudes for  human  passions  and  actions. 

g.  Narrow,  uninterested,  and  hence  frequently  inaccurate  observa- 
tion of  natural  facts. 


5  2  TREA  TMENT  OF  NA  TURE  IN  ENGLISH  FOE  TR  Y 

h.  Cold  and  lifeless   imitation   of  the  forms  and  details  without 

the  spirit  of  Latin  models. 
/.    A  vocabulary  restricted  and  imitative  in  character. 
;.    An  underlying  conception   of   nature   as  entirely  apart  from 

man,  and  to   be  reckoned  with  merely  as   his   servant   or   his 

foe. 


CHAPTER  II. 

INDICATIONS    OF    A    NEW    ATTITUDE    TOWARDS    NATURE    IN    THE 
POETRY    OF    THE     EIGHTEENTH    CENTURY.. 

In  this  chapter  the  method  of  work  is  quite  unlike  that  in  the 
preceding  study.  The  typical  and  the  dominant  are  not  regarded. 
Attention  is  rather  converged  upon  the  significant  exception. 
We  are  led  into  nooks  and  corners  and  byways.  The  most  famous 
author  is  not  necessarily  the  one  on  whom  emphasis  is  placed.  In 
searching  for  legitimate  proof  of  a  tendency  we  may  safely  turn  to 
the  work  of  men  of  unoriginal  genius  and  moderate  power.'  A 
study  of  this  sort  would  certainly  give  a  distorted  view  if  it  were 
for  a  moment  thought  to  represent  the  period  as  a  whole.  But 
if  it  is  held  in  mind  that  the  attitude  towards  nature  was  in  general 
through  the  eighteenth  century  marked  by  indifference  and  arti- 
ficiality, we  may  throw  as  high  lights  as  we  please  on  the  excep- 
tions. This  study  will  serve  its  purpose  if,  in  its  following  out 
of  the  complexities  and  inconsistencies  that  make  a  transition 
period  interesting,  it  shall  succeed  in  showing  that,  along  with 
the  classical  feeling  towards  nature,  there  was  also  a  real  and 
vital  love  for  the  out-door  world,  and  that  this  new  attitude 
towards  nature  is  marked  by  first-hand  observation,  by  artistic 
sensitiveness  to  beauty,  by  personal  enthusiasm  for  nature,  by  a 
recognition  of  the  effect  of  nature  on  man,  and,  occasionally, 
by  an  imaginative  conception  of  nature  somewhat  in  the  Words- 
worthian  sense. 

The  new  attitude  towards  nature,  of  which  Thomson  is  the 

first  adequate  exponent,  finds  occasional  and  not 

^  ^   ^  ineffective  expression  during  the  two  decades  before 

between  1706  ^  ° 

and  1726  ^^^  publication  of  Winter  \n  1726.     In  the  works 

of  John  Philips,  Ambrose  Philips,  Lady  Winchelsea, 

John    Gay,  Thomas  Parnell,  Samuel   Croxall,  William  Pattison, 

'SeeGosse:  Seventeenth  Century  Studies.     Introduction. 

53 


54  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

Allan  Ramsay,  Riccaltoun,  and  Armstrong,  we  become  more  or 

less  definitely  aware  of  a  new  outlook  on  the  external  world. 

Dr.  Johnson  praised  Philips's  poem  Cyder  ^  because  it  had  the 

"peculiar  merit"  of  being  "grounded  in  truth."     On  the  whole 

this  poem   is   of   the  didactic  classical   order,  but 

•^*^  °  ^         here  and  there  amons:  the  minutely  accurate  horti- 

(1676-1708)  ,        ,  *  .    J.       ■  , 

cultural  precepts  we  come  upon   indications  that 

the  poet  was  not  insensible  to  the  charms  of  nature  in  other  than 

its  utilitarian  aspects.     His  delight  in  color  maybe  seen  from  his 

specific  descriptions   of   apples.     The  pippin  is   "  burnish'd  o'er 

with  gold  ; "   the   red-streak  "  with  gold  irradiate  and  vermilion 

shines."     "Plumbs"    are    "sky-dyed."       He    notes    the    "Ore, 

Azure,  Gules,"  and  the  blending  of  colors   in  the  rainbow.     He 

observes  the  contrast  between  fields  yellow  with  grain,  and  green 

pasture  land.     And  he  sees  the  colored  edges  of  clouds  when  the 

sun   breaks  through.     There   is   also  apparent  a  sensitiveness   to 

odors.     He  speaks  of  cowslip-posies  "faintly  sweet,"  of  odorous 

herbs,  of  the  fragrance  of  apples  on   a  dewy  autumn  morning, 

and    of    "the    perfuming    flowery    bean."     Mr.    Shairp    credits 

Thomson  with  being  the   first   poet  to  mention  the  fragrance  of 

the  bean   fields,*  but  Philips   is   at  least   twenty  years  ahead   of 

Thomson  in  noting  this  fact. 

We  see  further  indication  of   Philips's  enjoyment  of  nature  in 

a  few  lines, 

"  Nor  are  the  hills  unamiable,  whose  tops 
To  heaven  aspire,  affording  prospect  sweet 
To  human  ken,"  3 

which  were  perhaps  the  earliest  expression  in  the  eighteenth 
century  of  that  pleasure  in  high  hills  and  wide  prospects  that  was  so 
marked  a  characteristic  of  later  poetry.  Philips's  explanation  of 
the  satisfaction  he  found  in  an  early  morning  walk,  namely,  that 
the  mind  perplexed  with  irksome  thought  is  calmed  by  the  influ- 
ence of  nature,"  seems  like  a  prophecy  of  the  thought  afterwards 
dominant  concerning  man's  indebtedness  to  nature. 

■Cyder,  1:248. 

2 Shairp:  The  Poetic  Interpretation  of  Nature,  p.  199. 

3 Cyder,  1:563.  ■♦Cyder:    2:65. 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY     55 

In  Ambrose    Philips's  Pastorals  we  find  a  mingling  of  first- 
hand observation   and  classical  imitation.     His  references  to  the 
ancients,    his   amcebean     contests,     the    supposed 

,    effect  of  the  death  of  Albino  on  the  external  world, 
ips  (1675-1749) 

the  emphasis  on  dangers  from  heat  and  the  nightly 

wolf,  the  frequent  use  of  cumulative  comparisons,'  and,  in  gen- 
eral, the  form  of  his  Pastorals,  show  how  closely  he  was  held  bv 
conventional  ideas.  Furthermore,  his  facile  use  of  nature  is 
always  determined  by  his  attitude  towards  some  pastoral  nymph 
or  swain.  He  rejoices  to  paint  an  idyllic  background  for  some 
Rosalind.  He  heaps  up  images  from  nature  to  express  the 
amorous  praises  of  some  Colinet.  He  has  no  conception  of  a 
relation  between  man  and  nature  more  intimate  than  the  highly 
artificial  one  of  his  Pastorals.  What  is  of  importance  in  his 
poetry  is  the  fact  that  in  the  midst  of  his  imitations  and  conven- 
tionalities are  many  true  and  charming  observations  drawn  entirely" 
from  English  country  life  and  not  found  in  earlier  eighteenth 
century  poetry.  His  work  is,  to  be  sure,  rendered  weak  and 
childish  by  two  unpleasant  mannerisms  in  diction;  his  use  of 
adjectives  ending  in  "y,"  as  bloomy,  dampy,  bluey,  steepy,' 
purply,  and  so  on,  and  his  use  of  diminutives  such  as  kidlings,  lamb- 
kins, younglings,  firstlings,  and  steerlings.  But  on  the  whole  we 
find  in  his  poems  a  more  full  and  accurate  knowledge  of  nature  than 
is  at  all  common  in  the  poetry  of  the  time.  He  notes  the  fleeting, 
dusky  shadows  cast  by  moving  clouds,  the  glossiness  of  plums, 
the  blue  color  of  mists,  the  sweet  odors  of  morning,  the  moaning  ' 
of  the  night  wind  in  the  grove,  the  sportive  chase  of  swallows, 
the  loud  note  of  the  cuckoo,  the  speckled  breast  of  the  thrush, 
and  the  song  of  the  backbird  "fluting  through  his  yellow  bill." 
He  usually  calls  flowers,  trees,  birds,  and  other  animals  by  their 
specific  names,  and  he  seldom  extends  his  list  beyond  his  own 
probable  observation.  That  Philips  had  a  genuine  love  for 
nature  in  her  milder  forms  is  further  seen  from  the  preface  to  his 
Pastorals.  "As  in  Painting,"  he  says,  "so  in  Poetry,  the  country 
affords  not  only  the  most   delightful   scenes  and  prospects,  but 

'Pastorals.    1:6;  3:1;   6;   3:41-44;   3:69-74;    1: 10;  4:154;   5=8;    i':  27  ; 
2:59;   2:125-128;  3;  65-68;  4:153-160. 


V 


56  TREA  TMEN7 '  OF  NA  TURE  IN  ENGLISH  POE  TR  Y 

likewise  the  most  pleasing  images  of  life."     He  loved  the  songs 

of  birds  because  the  "sedate  and  quiet  harmony  "  of  their  simple 

strains  gives  "a  sweet  and  gentle  composure  to  the  mind."     And 

he  was  conscious  of  an  "unspeakable  sort  of  satisfaction"  when 

he  saw  "a  little  country-dwelling,  advantageously  situated  amidst 

a  beautiful  variety  of  hills,  meadows,  fields,  woods  and  rivulets." 

Lady  Winchelsea  is,  in  the  study  of  the  poetry  of  nature,  one 

of  the  most  significant  of  the  minor  poets  before  Thomson.    She 

was  a  friend  of  Rowe  and  Pope,  and  was  honored 
Lady  Winchel-  ,  ,.  ^  , 

o«o  /  cc  -3         \  by   complimentary  verses     from     them.'       She    is 
sea  (i6oo?-i72o)     •'  '  •' 

known  now  chiefly  because  of  Wordsworth's  refer- 
ence to  her,^  and  through  the  poems  published  in  Ward's  Efiglish 
Poets.  Three  of  the  poems  there  given.  The  Nightingale,  The 
Tree,  A  Nocturnal  Revery^  have  to  do  with  nature.  With  these 
exceptions  the  eighty-one  poems  in  the  collection  of  1713^  are 
thoroughly  classical  in  their  form  and  spirit,  though  unmarked  by 
any  preponderance  of  artificial  fancies.  But  these  three  short 
poems  are  remarkable  productions  when  thought  of  in  connectioa^ 
with  their  author's  poetical  environment.  They  are  the  earliest) 
eighteenth  century  poems  in  which  nature  is  frankly  chosen  as 
the  theme,  and  they  show  a  personal  knowledge  that  must  have 
been  the  accumulated  result  of  many  experiences. 

The  observation  in  Tlie  Nightingale  is  especially  truthful 
and  sympathetic.  That  there  is  no  attempt  to  describe  the  bird 
is  an  omission  justified  by  the  fact  that  the  nightingale  is  seldom 
seen.''  The  two  characteristics  noted  in  the  bird's  song  are  its 
exceeding  sweetness  and  its  sadness,  or  rather,  its  sense  of  pain.^ 

'  Rowe  :  An  Epistle  to  Flavia ;  Pope  :  An  Impromptu  to  Lady  Winchelsea. 

^  Wordsworth  :  Essay,  Supplementary  to  the  Prefaces. 

3  Miscellany  Poems  on  Several  Occasions,  Written  by  a  Lady.      1 7 13. 

■i  In  the  references  to  the  nightingale  by  Chaucer,  Milton,  Cowper, 
Wordsworth,  Keats,  Shelley,  Matthew  Arnold,  and  Mrs.  Browning,  the  only 
approaches  to  description  of  the  appearance  of  the  bird  are  Matthew  Arnold's 
"  tawny-throated,"  Keats's  "  full-throated,"  and  Coleridge's  "  bright,  bright 
eyes,  their  eyes  both  bright  and  full." 

Cf.  Milton's,  "sweetest,  saddest  plight;"  or  "most  musical,  most  melan- 
choly ;  "  and  Shelley's,  "  melodious  pain  ;  "  and  Keats's,  "  plaintive  anthem  ;  " 
and  Matthew   Arnold's,   "  Wild,    untjuenched,    deep-sunken,    old-world    pain." 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY    fSl 

A  comparison  of  the  phrases  in  the  notes  will  show  that  Lady  Win- 
chelsea  listened  with  the  hearing  ear  of  a  true  poet.  But  we  cannot 
fail  to  notice  as  well  that  the  song  is  not  fully  heard  or  reported. 
In  the  other  poets  we  find  represented  a  richness,  a  fullness,  an 
ecstasy,  a  tumult,  not  even  hinted  at  in  Lady  Winchelsea's 
poem.'  Nor  does  she  mention  the  passion  most  poets  have 
heard  in  the  song.""  But  however  incou:plete  the  impression 
received  may  have  been,  the  poetical  record  of  what  was  per- 
ceived is  both  truthful  and  vivid.  She  seems  to  write  as  she 
listens  and  the  reader  follows  the  variations  of  the  song  through 
their  effect  on  her  own  mind.  ^ 

In  the  fifty-two  lines  of  the  poem  on  night  twenty-two  nat- 
ural facts  are  recorded.  Some  of  these  would  not  escape  the 
most  careless,  but  only  close  observation  would  discover  such 
details  as  the  sleepy  cowslip,  the  grass  standing  upright,  the 
unusual  strength  of  odors,  the  clearer  sound  of  falling  waters, 
the  horse's  audible  cropping  of  the  grass,  the  waving  moon  seen 
in  the  stream,  and  the  distant  call  of  the  curlew.  Lady  Win- 
chelsea's love  of  nature  was  of  the  most  unambitious  sort.  To 
have  seen  the  stately  tree,  to  have  heard  the  nightingale,  to 
know  all  she  did  about  night,  would  not  have  called  her  beyond 
the  gates  of  her  own  park.  But  her  joy  in  nature  needed  no 
strong  or  novel  stimulus.  It  is  her  distinction  that  she  had 
fixed    an    "exquisite   regard"  on    the  commonest   facts    of    the 

Coleridge  speaks  once  of  "pity-pleading  strains,"  but  in  another  poem  con- 
tends for  the  "merry  nightingale,"  and  refuses  to  hear  anything  but  "love  and 
jovance"  in  the  song. 

'Cf.  Matthew  Arnold's, 

"  How  thick  the  bursts  come  crowding  through  the  leaves ; " 

and  Chaucer's  "lusty  nightingale  "  whose  voice  made  a  "loud  rioting;"  and 
Shelley's  "  storm  of  sound  ;  "  and  Wordsworth's  "  tumultuous  harmony  ;  "  and 
Keats's  "  pouring  forth  thy  soul  abroad  in  such  an  ecstasy  ; "  and  Coleridge's 

"  The  merry  nightingale 
That  crowds  and  hurries  and  precipitates 
With  fast  thick  warble  his  delicious  notes." 
2Cf.  Arnold's  "Eternal  passion  !  "     Milton's  "amorous  power  ;  "    Shelley's 
"voluptuous    nightingale;"    Coleridge's    "wanton    song;"    and   all   of    Mrs. 
Browning's  Bianca  Among  the  Nightingales. 


/ 


58  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

external  world,  and  that  she  spoke  quite  clearly  and  simply  from 
\tx  own  life.  Hence  her  knowledge  had  the  new  quality  of 
being  specific  and  local  and  accurately  defined. 

Still  more  noteworthy  is  Lady  Winchelsea's  spiritual  sensi- 
tiveness to  nature.  Such  a  phrase  as  "  the  mysterious  face  of 
heaven"  marks  a  new  conception  of  the  sky.  Night  is  no  longer 
"the  parent  of  fears  "  but  a  time  whose  solemn  quiet  suggests  a 
strange  and  subtle  sense  of  something  too  high  for  syllables  to 
speak.  Nature  is  to  her  no  mere  background  for  human  life. 
Man  is  influenced  by  nature.  His  rage  is  disarmed.  His 
spirit  is  led  to  feel  a  sedate  content.  And  sometimes  in 
moments  of  especial  insight  there  is  revealed  to  him  in  the 
inferior  world  an  existence  "like  his  own."  Not  often  before 
Wordsworth  is  there  so  distinct  a  prevision  of  his  way  of  looking 
at  nature.' 

In  the  slow  turning  of  English  poetry  from    the    artificial    to 
the   natural   John   Gay   was   distinctly   helpful,  yet  the  reader  of 
Trivia,    The  Fan,    The  Epistles,    the   Fables,    and 
.^  ,^         even  the  Eclogues  would  hardly  suspect  their  author 

of  knowing,  in  any  close  way,  any  life  outside  the 
city.  It  is  only  in  Rural  Sports,  written  when  he  was  twenty- 
eight,  and  77^1?  Shepherd' s  Week,  when  he  was  twenty-nine,  that 
we  find  any  real  study  of  nature.  In  Rural  Sports  hunting  and 
especially  fishing  are  described  with  the  enthusiasm  and  technical 
accuracy  of  an  expert.  There  is  no  hint  of  the  feeling  towards  ani- 
mals that  made  Thomson  and  Cowper  abhor  hunting.  There  is 
simply  a  thoroughly  sportsmanlike  knowledge  of  details,  a  sense 
of  pleasurable  excitement  in  the  chase,  and  joy  in  victory.  This 
delight  in  open  air  pursuits  is  often  far  enough  removed  from 
any  real  love  of  nature,  and  is  here  of  much  less  significance 
than  casual  passages  showing  Gay's  love  of  the  world  about 
him.  He  tells  us  that  it  was  his  habit  to  take  morning  walks 
through  the  fields,-  that  at  sunset  he  often  strayed  out  to  the 
cliffs  near  Barnstaple,  and  lingered  to  watch  the  glowing  colors 
of   the   sunset,   and    the   later    beauty   of    an   "unclouded   sky" 

'  Cf.  Gosse  :  Gossip  in  a  Library,  p.  123.     Eighteenth  Century,  p.  35. 
2 Rural  Sports,  i  135. 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY     59 

bright  with   stars  and  a  silver  moon   that   marked   a  glittering 
path   along   the   sea.'     This   passage   is    interesting  as  being  the 
first  poetical    record    in    this  period  of  a  walk  purely  to  observe  ' 
the  beauties  of  nature.     It  is  also  one  of  the  earliest  appreciative  ( 
mentions  of   the  ocean.     Gay's  love  of  nature  was  largely  con-  ( 
fined   to  the  milder  aspects,   but   he    seems  not    to    have    been 
entirely  indifferent  to  hills.     In  speaking  of  Colton  Hill  in  North 
Devonshire  he  said, 

"  When  its  summit  I  climb,  I  then  seem  to  be 
Just  as  if  I  approached  nearer  heaven ! 
When  with  spirits  depress'd  to  this  hill  I  repair 
My  spirits  then  instantly  rally  ; 
It  was  near  this  bless'd  spot,  I  first  drew  vital  air, 
So — a  hill  I  prefer  to  a  valley."  ^ 

In  six  or  seven  unimportant  passages  Gay  speaks  of  hills  or 
mountains,  apparently  using  the  words  interchangeably,  but  not 
in  a  manner  indicating  much  knowledge  of  them.  Yet  such 
little  pictures  as  that  of  the  dawn  when  the  sun  "strikes  the  dis- 
tant eastern  hills  with  light,"  or  that  of  "the  evening  star  shin- 
ing above  the  western  hill,"  show  some  recognition  of  hills  as 
an  attractive  part  of  a  landscape.  Gay  has  ajso  frequent  men- 
tion of  moonlight  and  starry  skies.  He  knows  ^flowers  and  birds 
and  trees  with  some  definiteness.  He  speaks  of  many  domestic 
animals.  He  notes  colors  and  odors. ^  He  observes  the  lenarth- 
ened  shadows  stretched  across  the  meadows  in  the  late  after- 
noon, the  long  flight  of  crows  seeking  the  wood  at  sunset,  the 
streams  "wrinkled"  by  a  fresh  breeze,  the  yellow  showers  of 
leaves  in  autumn.  Abundant  and  varied  as  is  this  use  of  nature, 
it  is  not  marked  by  especial  delicacy  of  feeling  or  accuracy  of 
observation.  But  for  all  that  The  Shepherd's  Week  is  a  notable 
piece  of  work,  and  it  is  in  these  pastorals  that  we  find  Gay's  real 
service.  Whether  meant  as  a  friendly  aid  in  Pope's  castigation 
of  Ambrose   Philips  or   not,   these  poems  were    unquestionably 

'  Rural  Sports,  I  rgg. 

^See  Life  of  John  Gay  in  Fables,  Warne  &  Co.,  1889. 

3  See  Coquette  Mother  and  Daughter  for  a  second  reference  to  the  fragrant 
bean-flower  before  Thomson. 


6o  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

meant  as  a  good-humored  satire  on  pastorals  that  ventured  to 
deal  truthfully  with  English  rustic  life.  The  Latin  form  was 
counted  the  ideal  one  for  pastoral.  To  this  form  Gay  held,  evi- 
dently with  the  conscious  purpose  of  suggesting  the  Latin  at 
every  turn.  Then  he  filled  in  this  mould  with  the  homeliest,  ■ 
most  realistic  details  of  English  country  life.'  The  plain,  prac- 
tical truth  of  these  details  is  simply  amazing  as  will  be  seen  from 
the  passages  indicated  in  the  note.  See  also  the  flowers  brought 
in,  the  primrose,  kingcup,  clover,  daisie,  gilliflower,  mary-gold, 
butter-flowers,  cowslip,  and  others ;  and  the  animals,  the  witless 
lamb,  frisking  kid,  udder'd  cow,  clucking  hen,  waddling  goose, 
squeaking  pigs,  worrying  cur,  whining  swine,  paddling  ducks, 
guzzling  hogs,  and  others  ;  and  the  country  sports,  as  romping 
in  the  fields,  blindman's  buff,  hot  cockles,  swinging,  and  others.^ 
In  Pastoral  IV  is  an  assemblage  of  curious  country  supersti- 
tions ;  in  Pastoral  I  dixt  given  signs  of  rain  ;  in  Pastoral  V  are 
funeral  customs ;  and  in  Pastoral  VI  an  account  of  the  favorite 
country  songs.  These  poems  are  a  veritable  treasure-house  for  the 
student  of  folk-lore.  They  might  also  serve  as  a  diary  of  coun-/ 
try  occupations.  Take  for  example  Bumkinet's  reminiscences  of 
Blouselinda's  life  in  Pastoral  V.  In  such  a  wood,  he  remem- 
bers, they  gathered  fagots.  There  he  drew  down  hazel  boughs 
and  stuffed  her  apron  with  brown  nuts.  In  another  place  he 
had  helped  her  hunt  for  her  strayed  hogs,  and  as  they  drove  the 
untoward  creatures  to  the  stye  had  seized  the  opportunitv  to  tell 
his  love.  At  the  dairy  he  had  often  seen  her  making  butter  pats, 
or  feeding  with  floods  of  whey  the  hogs  that  crowded  to  the 
door.  In  the  barn  as  he  plied  the  flail,  he  had  watched  her  sift 
out  food  for  the  hens.  In  the  field  she  had  ranged  the  sheaves 
as   he  pitched  them   on  the  growing  mow.     The  object  of  these 

^  '  As  illustrative  of  this  point  compare,  Virgil,  Eclogue  VIII,  27,  28,  and 
Gay,  Pastoral  III,  59-62 ;  Virgil,  Eclogue  I,  59-63,  and  Gay,  Pastoral  III, 
67-72;  Virgil,  Eclogue  V,  36-39,  and  Gay,  Pastoral  V,  83-87;  Virgil,  Eclogue 
V,  76-78,  and  Gay,  Pastoral  V,  153-158;  Virgil,  Eclogue  IV,  1-3,  and  Gay, 
Pastoral  VI,  1-3  ;  Virgil,  Eclogue  VI,  and  Gay,  Pastoral  VI;  Virgil,  Eclogue 
VIII,  and  Gay,  Pastoral  IV. 

•Pastoral  I. 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY     6i 

pastorals  was  to  show  the  absurd  incongruity  between  the  Latin 
form  with  its  suggestions  of  Arcadian  days,  and  the  roughness  of 
English  country  life.  The  result  was  unexpected.  Readers  in 
general,  indifferent  to  scholarly  congruities,  were  delighted  with 
the  novelty,  the  air  of  freshness  and  truth  in  the  pictures  scat- 
tered through  the  Pastorals.  Poetry  had  suddenly  and  without 
meaning  to  do  it,  gone  from  the  city  and  the  park  to  the  very 
plainest  and  most  matter  of  fact  sort  of  country  people  and 
country  occupations,  and  had  somehow  made  them  attractive. 
Blouzelinda  and  Buxoma  are  not  in  the  same  order  of  beings  as 
the  traditional  Phyllis  and  Chloris,  and  they  are  equally  far 
removed  from  the  vulgar  repulsive  country  wenches  in  Swift's 
coarse  satires.  They  are  real  beings  with  a  charm  of  their  own, 
and  the  love  they  inspire  in  Lobbin  Clout  and  Cuddy  is  an 
everyday,  quite  comprehensible  affair. 

The  dirge  for  Blouzelinda  indicates  well  the  covert  laugh 
with  which  Gay  wrote  these  descriptions  of  country  life.  The 
clergyman  said 

"that  Heaven  would  take  her  soul,  no  doubt, 
And  spoke  the  hour-glass  in  her  praise — quite  out." 

After  the  funeral  the  men  trudged 

"homeward  to  her  mother's  farm, 
To  drink  new  cyder  mull'd,  with  ginger  warm, 
For  gaffer  Tread-well  told  us,  by  the  by, 
'  Excessive  sorrow  is  exceeding  dry.'  " 

This  sense  of  fun  is  everywhere  apparent,  and  shows  how  unwit- 
tingly Gay  broke  a  lance  m  a  new  cause.  Yet  some  parts  of  his 
Preface  are  startlingly  modern  in  their  plea  for  truth  to  nature. 
Here  is  a  passage  which,  so  far  as  its  spirit  is  concerned,  might 
have  been  said  by  either  Crabbe  or  Wordsworth. 

"  Thou  wilt  not  find  my  shepherdesses  idly  piping  on  oaten 
reeds,  but  milking  the  kine,  tying  up  the  sheaves,  or,  if  the  hogs 
are  astray,  driving  them  to  the  styes.  My  shepherd  gathereth 
none  other  nosegays  but  what  are  the  growth  of  our  own  fields  ; 
he  sleepeth  not  under  myrtle  shades,  but  under  a  hedge  ;  nor 
doth  he  vigilantly  defend  his  flock  from  wolves  for  there  are  none." 


I 


62  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

Whatever  Gay  meant  to  do,  he  really  did  accomplish  what 
his  Preface  states  as  his  aim.  He  turned  poetry  away  from 
the  "  insipid  delicacy  "  of  the  conventional  pastoral,  and  truth- 
fully represented  the  "plain  downright  hearty  cleanly  folk" 
of  rustic  England.  And  external  nature,  though  nowhere  dwelt 
upon  for  its  own  sake,  is  everywhere  present  and  so  vividly  por- 
trayed, that  the  reader  had  what  was  certainly  a  poetic  novelty 
at  that  day,  "  a  lively  landscape  of  his  own  country,  just  as  he  might 
have  seen  it,  if  he  had  taken  a  walk  in  the  fields  at  the  proper 
sea?on." 

The   use   of  external   nature    in   Parnell's  poems  has  narrow 

limits.     There   is   no   mention    of  winter,  autumn,   or   summer. 

Mountains   are   merely   noted   in   passing   as    dis- 

Thomas  agreeable  features  in   the  poet's  dreary    surround- 

inofs  in  Ireland.  There  is  but  one  line  about  the 
(1679-1718)  ^ 

sea.  Wild  scenery  of  whatever  sort  is  ignored. 
The  only  storm  is  described  in  some  conventional  lines  in  The 
Hermit.  There  is  almost  no  record  of  specific  knowledge  of 
trees,  or  flowers,  or  birds.  There  are  few  indications  of  open- 
ness to  sensuous  impressions  from  specific  forms,  colors,  odors, 
sounds.  But  in  spite  of  these  widely  inclusive  negations,  Par- 
nell  is  of  distinct  importance  as  a  poet  of  nature.  He  has,  to 
begin  with,  some  accurate  first-hand  observation.  He  speaks 
once  of  the  "differing  green"  of  trees  in  spring.  He  describes 
a  fern  with  some  minuteness.  There  are  two  charming  descrip- 
tions of  banks  and  skies  reflected  in  clear  water.'  Other  fresh 
observations  are, 

"  Now  early  shepherds  o'er  the  meadow  pass 
And  print  long  footsteps  in  the  glittering  grass."  ^ 

"  When  in  the  river  cows  for  coolness  stand 
And  sheep  for  breezes  seek  the  lofty  land."  ^ 

Or  this  of  the  close  of  a  storm, 

"  But  now  the  clouds  in  airy  tumult  fly  ; 
The  sun  emerging  opes  an  azure  sky  ; 

'  Night  Piece  on  Death.     The  Hermit. 

=  Health.  3 The  Flies. 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY     63 

A  fresher  green  the  smellins<  leaves  display, 
And,  glittering  as  they  tremble,  cheer  the  day."' 
Such  lines  are  of  value  for  they  indicate,  though  they  are  few  in 
number,  some  power  of  direct  vision  and  of  restrained,  simple 
expression. 

Parnell's  distinctive  excellence  is,  however,  along  different 
lines.  He  records  not  facts  but  impressions.  He  is  essentially 
a  poet  of  the  spring ;  he  felt  intensely  all  the  glad,  abundant 
life  of  the  early  year.  But  there  is  not  a  description  of  spring 
in  his  poems.  He  gives  instead  curiously  happy  descriptive 
touches  that  suggest  far  more  than  they  say.     Note  such   lines 

as, 

"  When  spring  came  on  with  fresh  delight,"^ 

or 

"  Green  was  her  robe,  and  green  her  wreath, 
Wher-e'er  she  trod  'twas  green  beneath."'' 
or 

"  The  planted  lanes  rejoice  with  dancing  leaves."  ^ 

There  is  a  lilt  in  such  lines,  a  joyousness,  an  off-hand  cer- 
tainty of  touch,  not  in  keeping  with  the  customary  cold  and 
labored  descriptions  of  spring. 

Of  still  greater  significance  is  Parnell's  literary  use  of  nature. 
In  the  Night  Piece  the  external  scene  serves  as  an  appropriate 
background  forjhe  thought  giesented.  The  few  natural  facts  are 
so  well  chosen  and  so  delicately  touched  that  all  the  moral 
reflections  seem  permeated  with  an  appropriate  out-of-doors 
atmosphere.  The  calm,  perfect  beauty  of  the  picture  of  night  with 
its  closing  suggestions  of  mystery  and  sadness,  the  fading  of  the 
pale  moon,  and  the  sounds  that  come  over  the  long  lake,  fit 
exactly  the  course  of  the  poet's  melancholy  meditation  and 
contribute  to  it.  The  gay  light  pictures  in  the  Hyinn  to  Con- 
tentment are  equally  well  suited  to  the  spirit  of  joyous  praise 
with  which  that  poem  concludes. 

Bishop  Jebb  has  pointed  out  for  the  enjoyment  of  the 
"classical  and  pious  reader"  the  similarity  between  the  moral 
reflections  in   this   poem   and   those  in   Cardinal  Bona's  Divina 

'The  Hermit.  ^Anacreontic.  3  Health. 


64  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

Psalmodia.^  Parnell's  close  adherence  to  the  thought  of  the 
Cardinal  in  the  didactic  part  of  -the  poem,  and  the  fact  that  the 
last  forty-two  lines,  the  ones  that  deal  with  nature,  are  entirely 
Parnell's  own,  give  striking  proof  of  the  originality  of  his  thought 
concerning  the  external  world  and  its  power  over  the  human 
heart.  It  is  in  these  lines  that  we  find  his  most  subtly  suggestive 
conception  of  nature.  He  represents  himself  as  sad  at  heart. 
-He  seeks  contentment  in  earthly  pomp,  in  the  paths  of  knowledge, 
in  solitary  search  after  diverting  scenes  in  nature,  but  in  vain. 
At  last  he  goes  to  a  wood,  and  as  he  yields  himself  to  the  influ- 
ence of  the  place  becomes  suddenly  aware  that  in  this  quiet  spot 
the  true  spirit  of  contentment  is  speaking  to  him  wise  lessons  of 
self-control  and  communion  with  God.  In  gratitude  for  the  joy 
that  has  come  to  him  through  nature  he  utters  a  song  of  praise 
to  the  "source  of  all  nature,"  but  as  he  looks  about  him  on  the 
glad  world,  he  feels  that  his  song  is  merely  an  expression  in 
words  of  the  great  chorus  of  thanksgiving  going  always  silently 
up  from  sun  and  moon  and  stars,  from  seas,  woods,  and  streams. 

Such  work  as  this  is  indeed  remarkable  before  17 13;  and 
for  spirituality  and  insight,  for  what  has  well  been  called  "a 
sense  of  the  thing  behind  the  thing,"  it  was  many  years  before 
it  was  paralleled. 

The  Morning  Contemplation  is  the  only  one  of  Pattison's  poems 

that  has  much  to  do  with  nature.     It  was  written,  his  friend  tells  us, 

on  the  banks  of  a  river  where  the  young  poet  used 

William  j-Q  -wander,  endeavoring  to  attune  his  verses  to  the 

,         smoothness  and  harmony  of  the  stream.     He  was 
(1706-1727) 

especially  sensitive  to  the  "sadly  pleasing  melan- 
choly "  of  moonlight  nights  and  solitary  walks,  and  he  was  one 
of  the  first  poets  to  express  a  longing  for  solitude  with  nature. 
Gilded  rooms  of  state,  the  purple  slavery  of  towns,  rob  him  of 
the  bliss  he  finds  in  the  living  forest.  When  alone  in  the  spacious 
fields  he  thinks  himself  almost  a  god.  Even  little  scrubby  thorns 
are  to  him  more  pleasing  objects  than  courts  can  show.  Nature 
charms  his  senses  and  soothes  his  soul ;  she  is  his  best  teacher, 
and  he  trusts  her  plain  instructions. 
'Parnell:  Poetical  Works,  p.  77. 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY     65 

"  Tell  me,  all  ye  mighty  wise, 
Ye  governors  of  colleges  ; 
What  deeper  wisdom  can  you  know 
Than  easy  nature's  works  here  show," 

reads  like  a  crude  prevision  of  Wordsworth's  llie  Tables  Turned. 
The  "excellent  morality"  of  The  Morning  Contemplation  is  much 
in  the  vein  of  Dyer's  Grongar  Hill.  Every  fact  in  nature  arouses 
some  thought  or  some  emotion.  By  contrast  or  analogy  it  sug- 
gests human  life,  as  in  the  lines, 

"  See  this  river  as  it  goes, 
With  what  eloquence  it  flows? 

Believe  me,  life's  the  very  same. 
The  very  image  of  this  stream." 

Pattison's  poem  is  of  real  importance,  because  its  early  date' 
ranks  it  as  probably  the  first  of  the  eighteenth  century  poems 
that  treat  of  nature  in  the  romantic,  sentimental,  fervid  fashion 
afterwards  brought  to  its  culmination  by  the  Wartons. 

Allan  Ramsay's  education  was  of  the  most  limited  sort,  so 

that,  in   early  life   at  least,  the  development  of  his  genius  was 

unbiased  by  a  knowledge  of  Latin  and  Greek   or 

,  ,         even  English  models.     After  he  was  fifteen  he  lived 

(1685-1758)  * 

in  Edinburgh  and   there  began  to  be  infected  by 

the  pseudo-classicism  of  his  day.  The  poems  in  which  country 
scenes  and  people  were  most  fully  represented  were,  however, 
pretty  clear  and  unadulterated  records  of  his  early  experiences  in 
the  secluded  mountainous  district  of  Lanarkshire  where  he  was 
brought  up.  The  best  poems  of  this  sort  are  the  pastoral  dia- 
logues, Patie  and ^Roger,  1721,  and  Jenny  and  Meggy,  1723,  or 
rather,  The  Gentle  Shepherd,  1725,  which  is  a  combination  of  the 
two  pastorals  thrown  into  completer  dramatic  form.  A  second 
edition  of  The  Ge/itle  Shepherd  appeared  in  the  same  year  as 
Thomson's  Winter.'^     It  is  worthy  of  note  that  the  service  ren- 

'Pattison  died  in  1727,  and  he  was  in  college  during  the  four  preceding 
years.  The  records  of  his  life  are  scanty,  but  he  probably  wrote  this  poem 
before  1723,  when  he  left  the  region  of  his  dear  Ituna,  that  being  the  stream  on 
whose  banks  he  was  accustomed  to  murmur  out  his  verses. 

^See  Ramsay's  Poems,  I,  p.  xxvii. 


V 


66 


TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  I  A'  ENGLISH  POETRY 


dered  by  Gay  to  English  poetry  is  in  many  respects  paralleled  by 
Allan  Ramsay's  contributions  to  Scottish  song.  There  are  in 
Ramsay's  pastorals  similar  closely  studied  scenes  from  peasant 
life,  wherein  are  minutely  described  the  superstitions,'  the  house- 
hold customs,''  the  out-door  occupations, ^  the  trials,"*  and  the 
pleasures,^  of  the  homely  folk  among  the  hills  of  Scotland.  But 
there  are  important  differences.  What  Gay  did  lightly  and  with- 
out serious  intent  was  with  Ramsay  a  service  of  love.  He  wag 
not  laughing  in  his  sleeve  at  the  very  truth  he  so  capitally  pof-  ' 
trayed.  Throughout  his  work  there  is,  in  general,  an  air  of  sin- 
cerity. It  is  as  if  Gay  wrote  from  the  point  of  view  of  an  out-^ 
sider  with  an  unfailingly  keen  eye,  and  a  quick  sense  of  humor. 
But  Ramsay  wrote  from  a  life  that  he  had  known  and  loved, 
and  that  he  thoroughly  respected.^  There  are  occasional  false 
notes  in  his  pastorals.  He  gives  his  shepherds  flutes  and 
reeds;  his  comparisons,  especially  his  cumulative  similes,  are 
conventional;  he  makes  rather  stiff  use  of  personification;  and 
his  desire  to  make  his  hero  and  heroine  well  born  interferes  with 
the  pastoral  simplicity  of  the  drama.  But  these  are  extraneous 
and  hardly  affect  the  real  texture  of  ;:he  work. 

We  find  in  Ramsay's  poems  occasional  hints  that  his  presen- 
tation of  homely^cottish  scenes  and  people  was  not  merely 
instinctive,  but  that  It  was  in  some  measure  a  deliberate  choice. 
In  Tartatia,  written  in  1721,  he  said  that  his  chosen  muses  were 
those  that  wandered  through  the  clover  meadows  and  the  groves 
along  the  smooth  meandering  Tweed,  or  by  the  gentle  Tay,  or 
where  the  haughty  Clyde  roar'd  over  lofty  cataracts. 

'Cf.  Richy  and  Sandy,  1.  8;  Robert,  Richy,  and  Sandy,  11.  31-34;  Gentle 
Shepherd,  I,  i,  89;  I,  i,  148;   II,  2,  17-40 ;  H,  3,  27-47;  V,  i,  19-43- 

^.Cf.  Gentle  Shepherd.  I,  2,  190-193,  207;!,  2,  200-204;  H.  i>  76-86;  II, 
2,  Prologue;  II,  I,  Prologue;  III,  3,  111-116;  V,  2,  Prologue. 

3Cf.  Gentle  Shepherd,  I,  i,  205  ;  I,  2,  1-4. 

■•Cf.  Richy  and  Sandy,  11.  49,  50;  Gentle  Shepherd,  I,  i,  43,44,67-70,  156; 
I,  2,  131-137;  Song  VIII. 

sGentle  Shepherd,  I,  2,  138-147;  II,  4,  43-66;  IV,  2,  148-158. 

*In  the  copious  notes  to  the  1815  edition  of  Pennecnik's  7 iveeddale 'vs,  z. 
full  account  of  the  country  about  New- Hall,  accompanied  by  quotations  from 
Ramsay's  poem,  to  show  the  accuracy  of  his  descriptions. 


\J2.A' 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY     67 

"  Phoebus,  and  his  imaginary  nine 
With  me  have  lost  the  title  of  divine ; 
To  no  such  shadows  will  I  homage  pay, 
These  to  my  real  muses  shall  give  way." 

And  again,  protesting  against  the  narrowness  of  poetic  rules 
and  customs,  he  said, 

"  With  more  of  Nature  than  of  art 
From  stated  rules  I  often  start, — 

Rules  never  studied  yet  bv  me.  v/ 

My  muse  is  British,  bold  and  free, 
And  loves  at  large  to  frisk  and  bound,"  ' 

and  he  called  a  wide,  wild  garden  where  all  sorts  of  plants 
grew  in  wanton  confusion,  a  paradise  made  by  nature  herself. 
Even  more  emphatic  is  his  Preface  to  The  Evergreen  in  1724. 
In  commendation  of  the  poems  he  had  collected  he  said,  "The 
morning  rises  as  she  does  in  the  Scottish  horizon.  We  are  not 
carried  to  Greece  or  ftaly  for  a  shade,  a  Stream,  or  a  Breeze. 
■.  .  .  I  find  not  Fault  with  these  Things,  as  they  are  in  Greece 
or  Italy:  But  with  a  Northern  Poet  for  fetching  his  Materials 
from  these  Places,  in  a  Poem,  of  which  his  own  Country  is  the 
Scene;  as  our  Hymners  to  the  Spring  and  Makers  of  Pastorals 
frequently  do." 

Ramsay's  use  of  external  nature  is  more  charming  than  Gay's. 
Scottish  f)oetrv  had  never,  in  its  attitude  towards  the  out-door 
world,  passed  through  so  barren  and  arid  a  period  as  that  of  the 
pseudo-classicism  in  England,  nor  had  the  Scottish  people  ever 

'  Answer  to  the  Foregoing  (To  Somerville). 

In  the  poems  addressed  to  Allan  Ramsay  on  the  publication  of  his  works 
in  1 72 1  we  find  significant  critical  approval  based  on  Ramsay's  avoidance  of 
tame  nature,  and  his  turning  from  the  authority  of  the  schools.  The  simile  of 
a  garden  recurs  in  a  poem  by  "  C.  T."  He  planted  trees  in  equal  rows  and 
arranged  flowers  in  a  parterre,  but  found  his  labor  in  vain.  The  narrow  scene 
became  dailv  more  distasteful  to  him,  and  finally  he  went  back  to  the  fields 
where  "Nature  wantoned  in  her  prime."  Here  he  found  space,  variety,  sur- 
prise, and  was  content.  Ja.  Arbuckle  praises  Ramsay  for  roaming  over  hill 
and  dale  and  leaving  "carpet-ground"  to  "tender-footed  beasts,"  and  for 
choosing  to  subsist  on  his  native  stock  while  other  poets  pilfered  fame  by  pick- 
ing the  locks  of  their  predecessors.     Poems  of  Allan  Ramsay,  I,  p.  4-7. 


68  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

lost  their  sense  of  the  beauty  and  especially  of  the  mysterious 
power  of  glens  and  braes  and  burns.  So  Ramsay's  love  of  nat- 
ure was  not  without  a  considerable  background  in  the  way  of 
national  poetic  spirit.  He  spoke  out  in  fresh,  true  words  what 
everybody  knew,  and  described  scenes  familiar  to  every  eye. 
There  are,  however,  distinct  limitations  in  Ramsay's  knowledge 
of  nature  and  his  power  of  sympathetic  representation.  His 
recognition  of  colors  is  fresh  and  charming,  but  elementary, 
like  that  shown  in  ballads.  "  Caledonian  hills  are  green,"  "  be- 
neath a  green  shade,"  "  the  simmer  green,"  "  a  green  meadow," 
"  my  native  green  plains,"  are  characteristic  phrases. 

"  When  corn-riggs  wav'd  yellow,  and  blue  heather  bells,"' 
and 

"  To  pu'  the  rashes  green  with  roots  sae  white,"  " 

are  almost  the  only  instances  of  any  other  color  than  green. 
Such  phrases  as  "  scented  meadows,"  "  sweet  scented  rucks," 
"  new  blown  scents,"  "  sweetest  briar,"  "  blooming  fragrance," 
show  the  same  simple,  undifferentiated  recognition  of  odors. 
A  few  lines  as, 

"  How  fast  the  westlin  winds  sough  through  the  reeds  "  ^ 

are  more  specific  representations  of  sounds,  but  we  do  not  often 
find  words  so  discriminating.  His  references  to  trees,  flowers, 
and  birds  are  of  the  same  general,  limited  sort.  There  are 
"  bonny  haughs  "  and  "  bonny  woods;  "  there  are  rising  plants, 
primroses,  daisies,  and  gowans;  there  are  "  quiristers  on  high," 
the  merle,  the  mavis,  and  the  lark.  But  there  is  no  subtle,  de- 
tailed observation.  It  is  the  open,  frank,  spontaneous  joy  of  a 
child  happy  in  the  glad  world  about  him.  Ramsay's  best  lines 
are  descriptive  of  shining  days,  clear  heavens,  dancing  streams. 
"  The  sun  shines  sweetly,  a' the  lift  looks  blue,"'*  "  ae  shining 
day,"  "  ae  clear  morn  of  May,"  "the  morning  shines,"  "the  lift's 
unclouded  blue,"  "  fair  simmer  mornings  "   indicate  the  general 

'  The  Gentle  Shepherd,  2  : 4,  62. 
^  The  Gentle  ^Shepherd,  2  :  4,  50. 

3  The  Gentle  Shepherd,  2:4,  10. 

4  To  Mr.  William  Starrat,  46. 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY     69 

atmosphere  of  the  scenery  introduced.  Occasional  closer  touches 
are  seen  in  such  lines  as, 

"  I've  seen  with  shining  fair  the  morning  rise, 
And  soon  the  fleecy  clouds  mirk  a'  the  skies,"  ' 
"  For  yet  the  sun  was  wading  thro'  the  mist."  ^ 

Best  of  all  are  the  lines  about  streams. 

"  A  trotting  burnie  wimpHng  through  the  ground 
Its  channel  pebbles,  shining,  smooth  and  round,"  ^ 

"A  little  fount 
Where  water  poplin  springs."  •* 

"  I've  seen  the  silver  spring  a  while  rin  clear, 
And  soon  the  mossy  puddles  disappear."  ^ 

"  Between  twa  birks  out  o'er  a  little  lin 
The  water  fa's  and  makes  a  singan  din, 
A  pool  breast-deep,  beneath,  as  clear  as  glass, 
Kisses  with  easy  whirles  the  bord'ring  grass,"  ^ 

are  descriptions  almost  perfect  of  their  kind.  In  their  beauty 
and  freshness  they  show  that  the  eye  was  on  the  object.  Mr. 
Shairp  says  of  Habbie's  How,  "A  pool  in  a  burn  among  the 
Lowland  Hills  could  hardly  be  more  naturally  described,"  and 
one  need  not  be  a  Scotchman  to  feel  sure  that  the  same  is  true 
of  the  minor  descriptive  touches. 

Though  Ramsay  was  brought  up  in  a  rugged  part  of  Scot- 
land, he  seems  to  have  had  none  of  the  modern  feeling  for 
mountains.  But  he  speaks  of  "  black,  heathery  mountains,"  of 
"  northern  mountains  clad  with  snow,"  of  "  mountains  clad  with 
purple  bloom,"  and  of  hills  that  "smile  wdth  purple  heather." 
Once  he  exclaims, 

"  Look  up  to  Pentland's  tow'ring  top. 
Buried  beneath  great  wreaths  of  snaw, 

'  The  Gentle  Shepherd,  3  :3,  41. 

*  The  Gentle  Shepherd,  i  :  i,  137. 

3  The  Gentle  Shepherd,  Prologue,  i  :  2. 

*  The  Gentle  Shepherd,  Prologue,  2:3. 

5  The  Gentle  Shepherd,  3 :  3,  43.  \ 

*  The  Gentle  Shepherd,  i  :2,  7. 


70  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

O'er  ilka  cleugh,  ilk  scar,  and  slap, 
As  high  as  any  Roman  wa,'  "  ' 

and  he  notes  that 

"  Speats  aft  roar  frae  mountains  heigh."  - 

Such  passages,  though  they  show  no  love  for  the  mountains,  are 
yet  sufficiently  picturesque  and  exact  to  save  Ramsay  from  the 
imputation  of  never  having  seen  the  wild  country  around  him. 
To  the  ocean  he  gives  but  a  single  line, 

"  Along  wild  shores,  where  tumbling  billows  break."  ^ 

It  is  interesting  to  note  that  in  Ramsay  as  in  Gay  nature  is 
made  subordinate  to  man,  in  the  sense  that  the  pictures  from 
nature  are  nowhere  elaborated  or  dwelt  upon  ostensibly  for  their 
own  sake.  The  main  interest  is  in  the  study  of  the  characters.^ 
The  chief  contribution  of  Gay  and  Ramsay  to  the  growing  love 
of  nature  in  poetry  had  to  do  with  the  natural  man  in  natural 
scenes,  rather  than  with  the  natural  scene  itself.  Gay's  service  in 
the  way  of  external  nature  was  largely  the  outcome  of  his  fidelity 
to  the  fact.  Ramsay  did  more.  >He  not  only  gave  separate 
pictures  both  beautiful  and  true,  but  he  somehow  fused  them 
with  the  human  elements  of  his  pastoral  in  such  a  way  that  we 
cannot  think  of  the  racy  1.9ve-scenes  apart  from  their  fresh  and 
lovely  surroundings. 

In    1725,  or    shortly    before,   were  written    three    poems    on 
Winter.''     They  are  important  as  marking   the   first  real   turning 

from   the  softer  to  the  sterner  aspects  of  nature. 

Dr.  Armstrong    t>vax  >  -ju  ■    ^ 

,  Dr.  Armstrong  s   poem   was  inspired  by  a  winter 

(1709-1779)  , 

spent    among    the    wild    romantic    scenes  about 

the  river  Esk.  His  later  poetry  is  not  important  so  far 
as  the  use  of  nature  is  concerned.  He  became  a  great  ad- 
mirer of  Thomson  whose  style  he  imitated  with  some  success, 
but  he  shows  little  of  Thomson's  sensitiveness  to  natural  beauty. 

'  An  ode  to  the  Ph ,  1721,  st.  i. 

2  Answer  to  the  foregoing  (To  Somerville). 

3  Prospect  of  Plenty. 

4  (a)  Dr.   Armstrong's  Winter   in    Imitations  of  Shakespeare,  written   in 
1725,  though  not  published  till  1770. 


y 

NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY     71 

His  point  of  view  is  that  of  the  physician.  His  hatred  of  the 
town  is  based  on  his  objection  to  smoke  and  bad  air."  His 
summons  to  the  mountains  rests  on  the  value  of  exercise  and 
oxygen.  '^  One  of  the  most  effective  passages  is  his  apostrophe 
to  the  Liddal,  that  stream  "  unknown  to  song,  where  he  played 
when  life  was  young."  ^  The  only  poem  on  which  we  need  to 
dwell  is  the  VVinicr,  which,  though  often  absolutely  unintelli- 
gible from  its  inflated  and  periphrastic  form  of  expression,  has 
yet  a  rugged  vigor  and  originality.  It  shows  occasionally  a 
homely  realism  suggestive  of  Crabbe,  as  in  the  description  of  the 
shivering  clown.  The  observation  is  most  of  it  first-hand.  The 
description  of  the  birds  that,  when  the  storm  comes  on, 

"  With  domestic  lameness,  hop  and  flutter 
Within  the  roofs  of  persecuting  man," 

suggest  Thomson's  famous   red-breast.     Note  also   the  truth  of 

lines  such  as  these  : 

"when  the  murk  clouds 
Roll'd  up  in  heavy  wreaths,  low-bellying,  seem 
To  kiss  the  ground,  and  all  the  waste  of  snow 
Looks  blue  beneath  them;  " 

or  these: 

"  huge  sheets  of  loosen'd  ice 
Float  on  their  bosoms  to  the  deep,  and  jar 
And  clatter  as  they  pass." 

Or,  to  strike  a  lovelier  note,  this  closing  hint  of  the  coming 
spring: 

"  Hark  I  how  loud 
The  cuckoo  wakes  the  solitary  wood  !  " 

The  whole  poem  is  characterized  by  a  delight  in  the  wildest 
phases  of  winter  weather  and  it  shows  an   originality  of  concep- 

(b)  Riccaltoun's  A  Winter's  Day,  written  before    1725,  published  in  Sav- 
age's Miscellany  in  1726,  and  in  Gentleman's  Magazine,  1740. 

(c)  Thomson's  Winter,  written  in  fragments   before    1725,  but   fused    into 
one  poem  at  Mallet's  suggestion  in  1726. 

'  The  Art  of  Preserving  Health,  i  :  64-Q6. 

2  The  Art  of  Preserving  Health,  I  :  97-102;  3  :  .59-52. 

3  The  Art  of  Preserving  Health,  3  :  7 1-96.. 


72  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

tion,  a  fullness  of  observation,  and  an  occasional  strength  of 
expression  remarkable  in  a  boy  not  yet  sixteen. 

Riccaltoun's  poem   is  chiefly  remarkable  because   its   author 
was  a  friend  of  Thomson  in  his  boyhood  and  doubtless  helped  to 

cultivate  his  taste  for  nature  ;   because  it  was  this 

Robert  Riccal-  ^,     ^  ^    j    ^t-i  >     j         •    *• „   ^i 

,poem    that    sua^ffested    Thomsons  descriptions  ot 

toun(i69i-i769)^.  ^  ,  .     .  .- 

winter;   and  because  winter  was  at  that  time  a  new 

poetic  theme.  The  "  masterly  touches "  of  which  Thomson 
speaks  are  hard  to  find  unless  he  referred  merely  to  the  rough 
truth  in  the  catalogue-like  summaries  of  natural  facts.  A  dis- 
cussion of  Thomson's  Winter  will  come  more  naturally  in  the 
next  section. 

In  this  study    of  the   period   preceding  Thomson  we    have 

still  to  notice  the  indications  that  even  Pope   and    Addison  were 

not  left  untouched  by  the  new  spirit.     Such  indica- 

Pope(i688-        tions,  however,  show   but  faintly  in  their  poetry. 

^^    ,  ,  Addison's    Cursus    Glacialis  (1600)  was  written  in 

son  (1672-I719)   ,        .  A     .X.        t  A  ■     .■  v  1 

Latin,  and  the  few  descriptive  lines  are  purely 
conventional.  It  is  simply  an  attempt  to  show  that  the  vigorous 
sports  of  winter 

"New  brace  the  nerves,  and  active  life  supply." 

Pope's  Pastorals  appeared  in  Tonson's  Miscellany  in  1709. 
They  were  enthusiastically  received,  and  apparently  con- 
sidered a  charmingly  natural  presentation  of  country  life. 
Wycherley  called  Pope's  Muse  "a  sprightly  lass  of  the  plains," 
and  said,  that  "  in  her  modest  and  natural  dress  she  outshone  all 
Apollo's  court  ladies  in  their  more  artful,  laboured,  and  costly 
finery."'  But  no  assemblage  of  such  contemporary  judgments 
could  convince  a  modern  reader  that  these  poems  show  any  real 
traces  of  a  conception  of  the  outer  world  unlike  that  of  the  clas- 
sicists. Windsor  Forest  must  be  more  carefully  noted,  both 
because  of  Wordsworth's  implied  commendation-  in  his  reference 
to  the  "passage  or  two"  that  contain  new  images  of  external 
nature,  but  chiefly  because  it  is,  as  Courthope  observes,  the  first 

'Pope:  Works,  VI,  pp.  36,  37. 

■-'Wordsworth:  Essay  Supplementary  to  the  Preface,  1815. 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY     73 

"professed  composition  on  local  scenery"  since  Denham,  and 
Marvell.'  The  poem  was  written  at  two  different  times.  The 
first  2go  lines  have  to  do  with  the  country.  They  were  written 
in  1704,  at  about  the  same  time  as  the  Pastorals.  Although  this 
part  of  the  poem  purported  to  be  the  outcome  of  daily  rides  in 
Windsor  Forest,  the  descriptions  are  so  vague  and  general  that 
most  of  them  would  fit  any  other  spot  as  well.  The  lines  that 
show  personal  observation  are  certainly  few.  What  passages 
Wordsworth  meant  can  only  be  surmised.  He  may  have  had  in 
mind  the  descriptioa^of  the  pheasants.  But  more  exact  obser- 
vation is  shown  in  the  references  to  the  doves  flocking  on  the 
naked,  frosty  trees,  the  flight  of  the  clamorous  lapwing,  the 
trembling  of  trees  reflected  in  a  stream,  and  the  purple  heather.* 
That  Pope  had  some  desire  to  conform  to  the  truth  in  represent- 
ing English  scenery  is  indicated  by  his  doubt  as  to  the  advisability 
of  referring  to  the  vintage  in  describing  an  English  autumn. ^ 
And  when  he  revised  his  poems  he  omitted  "blushing,"  as  not 
being  applicable  to  violets,'' and  "wolves,"  as  not  belonging  to 
England.^  Warton  points  out,  also,  that  in  adapting  a  Latin 
description  of  the  Eurotas  to  serve  him  in  a  description  of  the 
Thames,  he  changed  "laurels"  to  "willows.* 

In  spite  of  these  indications  of  a  desire  to  be  true  to  nature, 
it  is  to  Pope's  prose  rather  than  his  poetry  that  we  must  turn  for 
any  real  influence  in  favor  of  simplicity  and  truth  in  the  presenta- 
tion of  natural  facts.  Though  in  reading  Pope's  letters  every 
statement  is  instinctively  taken  cum  grano,  salts,  because  of  his 
known   insincerity  and   striving   after   effect,   we   now  and  then 

'Pope  :  Works,  I,  p.  322. 
Denham :  Cooper's  Hill. 

Marvell:    Upon   the    Hill  and   Grove  at  Billbarrow,  and  Upon  Appleton 
House. 

zVeitch  in  Feeling  for  Nature  in  Scottish  Poetrv,  H,  p.  52,  credits 
Thomson  with  being  the  first  poet  to  mention  purple  heather,  but  this  mention 
by  Pope  is  more  than  twenty  years  earlier. 

3  Pope  :  Works,  I,  p.  346,  n.  3.     (But  compare  Autumn,  1.  74.) 

-^Pope:  Works,  I,  p.  269,  n.  I. 

S  Pope  ;  Works,  I,  p,  283,  n.  3  ;  p.  296,  n.  9. 

*Pope  :  Works,  I,  293.     Cf.  Warton :  Essay  on  Pope,  I,  p.  6.  * 


74  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

strike  passages  that  have  a  genuine  tone  of  pleasure  in  such  mild 
forms  of  nature  as  his  physical  condition  enabled  him  to  know.' 
Addison's  Essays  also  show  real  delight  in  the  milder  forms  of 
the  external  world.  "A  beautiful  prospect,"  he  says,  "delights 
the  soul  as  much  as  a  demonstration."  "A  man  of  polite  imagi- 
nation often  fee-Is  a  greater  satisfaction  in  the  prospect  of  fields 
and  meadows  than  another  does  in  the  possession."''  We  note, 
too,  his  pleasure  in  wide  views,^  in  sunset,''  and  in  spring.^  He 
also  deprecated  the  use  of  pagan  mythology  as  meaningless  in 
the  poetry  of  a  Christian  nation,*^  and  he  heartily  praised  Ambrose 
Philips's  attempts  to  confine  English  pastorals  to  English  scenes.'' 
And  finally,  both  Pope  and  Addison  were  strong  influences  in 
bringing  about  the  change  from  the  formal  to  the  natural  school 
of  gardening.^ 

SUMMARY. 

In  a  statement  of  the  influences  in  this  period  that  make  for  a 
new  spirit  towards  nature  we  must  not  forget  that  it  was  in  reality 
a  classical  period,  most  of  its  tendencies  and  all  of  its  best  work 
being  classical.  The  indications  of  the  new  spirit  are  fugitive,  \ 
occasional,  and  usually  unconscious.  With  this  proviso,  we  may  , 
sum  up  the  new  tendencies.  The  change  from  the  formal  to 
the  natural  school  of  gardening  was  begun   in  this  period,  and 

'rt.  Description  of  moonshine  walk.  (This  letter,  perhaps  a  sincere 
expression  when  first  written  (17 13),  was  a  favorite  of  Pope's.  When  he  pub- 
lished his  Letters  he  made  an  amusing  blunder  by  transferring  this  passage  to 
a  letter  dated  February  10,  17 1 5,  at  which  time  the  park  where  he  was  supposed 
to  have  watched  the  moonshine  and  reflected  on  mortality,  was  under  water 
from  the  great  flood  of  February  9th.     See  Letters,  I,  p.  367.) 

b.  Pleasure  in  birds,  etc.,  I,  p.  338. 

c.  Twickenham  in  spring,  IV,  pp.  72,  74. 

d.  Autumn,  IV,  p.  89. 

zSpectator,  June  21,  1712  (No.  411). 

3  Spectator,  June  23,  1712  (No.  412);  June  25,  1712  (No.  414). 

4  Spectator,  June  23,  1712  (No.  412). 

5  Spectator,  May  31  (No.  393). 
^Spectator,  October  30,  i7i2(No.  523). 

7  Spectator,  October  30,  17 12  (No.  523).     Cf.  Guardian,  Nos.  22,  23,  28,  30, 

32,  40. 

8. See  further  discussion  under  "Gardening." 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY      75 

owed  much  to  Pope  and  Addison.  The  artificial  shepherds 
and  shepherdesses  of  the  conventional  pastoral  were  sup- 
planted by  real  English  and  Scottish  peasants,  as  in  Ambrose 
Philips,  Gay,  and  Ramsay.  There  was  a  growing  sense  of  the 
beauty  and  charm  of  the  external  world,  as  in  Lady  Winchelsea, 
Parnell,  and  Ramsay.  In  most  of  the  poets  mentioned  in  this 
period,  there  was  a  new  quickness  and  minuteness  of  observation 
leading  to  a  wider  knowledge  of  natural  facts.  There  was  appre- 
ciative recognition  of  new  aspects  of  nature,  as  night  and  winter. 
There  was  not  lacking  a  hint  of  the  romantic  note  of  melancholy 
which  later  became  one  characteristic  of  the  poetry  of  nature. 
And  there  was  a  dawning  consciousness  of  the  spiritual  potencies 
iji  the  external  world.  There  was  also  an  occasional  self-conscious 
statement  of  new  principles,  as  humorously  in  Gay,  seriously  in 
Ramsay,  and  casually  in  Pope  and  Addison. 

THE  POETS   BETWEEN    I  726  AND   173O. 

Thomson  is  confessedly  the  most  important  figure  in  the  early 

history  of  Romanticism.     He   foreshadowed   the   new  spirit   in 

various  ways,  as  in   his  strong  love  of  liberty,  his 

James  constant  plea  for  the  poor  as  against  the  rich,  his 

preference  for  blank  verse,  his  imitation  of  older 
(1700-1748)         ^ 

models,  especially  Spenser,  and  in  his  tendency 
towards  comprehensive  schemes ;  but  his  chief  importance  is  in 
his  attitude  towards  external  nature.  If,  however,  we  take  into 
consideration  all  his  work,  we  shall  find  in  more  than  three- 
fourths  of  it  the  utmost  apparent  indifference  to  nature.  In  the 
five  tragedies  written  between  1738  and  1748  there  is  no  hint 
that  their  author  knew  more  of  the  world  about  him  than  the 
veriest  classicist  of  them  all.  In  Alfred  (1740),  .written  by 
Thomson  and  Mallet,  there  are  occasional  descriptive  touches, 
but  these  are  almost  too  slight  to  mention  when  we  think  what 
effects  might  have  been  produced  in  a  play  the  action  of  which 
occurs  on  a  beautiful  wooded  island  inhabited  only  by  a  few 
peasants.  In  the  other  tragedies  nature  is  drawn  upon  merely 
for  conventional  similitudes,  as  in  Edward  and  Elenora  (1739), 
where  five  of  the  eleven  similitudes  are  the  comparison  of  rage 


76  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

or  fierce  passions  to  tempests  ;  or  in  Sophonisba,  an  earlier  play 
(1728),  where  there  is  not  a  fresher  or  more  forceful  comparison 
than  that  of  an  army  to  a  torrent,  passion  to  a  whirlwind,  the 
hero  to  a  lion,  and  the  heroine  to  a  blooming  morn.  In  the 
3300  lines  of  the  tedious  poem,  Liberty  (1734-1736),  not  more 
than  fifty  refer  to  external  nature,  and  of  these  the  only  passages 
that  suggest,  even  remotely,  the  author  of  The  Seasons  are  the 
descriptions  of  the  sullen  land  of  Sarmatia'  and  the  shaggy 
mountain  charms  of  the  Swiss  Alps.^  The  Castle  of  Indolence, 
written  in  1733,  is  the  only  one  of  the  poems  written  after  1730 
that  indicates  any  genuine  love  of  nature.  The  charm  of  this  poem 
for  modern  readers  is  perhaps  largely  due  to  its  use  of  external 
nature,  for,  though  there  is  little  of  the  rich,  elaborate  descrip- 
tion characteristic  of  The  Seasons,  what  there  is  is  so  exquisitely 
appropriate  that  all  the  listless,  luxurious  life  of  this  land  of  soft 
delights  is  seen  through  a  romantic  and  picturesque  setting  of 
waving,  shadowy  woods,  sunny  glades,  and  silver  streams.  Yet  a 
closer  study  of  the  descriptive  stanzas  shows  little  more  than  a 
musically  felicitous  combination  of  the  attributes  conventionally 
recognized  as  belonging  to  a  pleasing  landscape.  The  only  lines 
really  indicative  of  a  love  of  nature  such  as  the  classicists  had 
not  known  are  the  following  from  the  second  Canto  : 

"  I  care  not,  Fortune,  what  you  me  deny  : 
You  can  not  rob  me  of  free  Nature's  grace ; 
You  can  not  shut  the  windows  of  the  sky, 
Through  which  Aurora  shows  her  brightening  face  ; 
You  can  not  bar  my  constant  feet  to  trace 
The  woods  and  lawns,  by  living  stream,  at  eve."^ 

It  is  to  The  Seasons  that  we  must  go  if  we  wish  to  understand 
Thomson's  work  as  a  poet  of  nature.  A  brief  analysis  of  the 
study  of  external  nature  in  these  poems  will  serve  to  show  both 
in  what  respects  Thomson's  work  was  the  outcome  of  a  new 
spirit,  and  in  what  respects  its  ai^liations  are  with  the  old. 

An  important  part  of  Thomson's  poetical  endowment  was  his 

'Liberty,  Part  3,  11.  514-526. 
*  Liberty,  Part  4,  II.  348-362. 
3 The  Castle  of  Indolence,  Canto  \\.  st.  3. 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY      11 

quick  sensitiveness  to  the  sights  and   sounds  and  odors  of  the 

world  about  him.     He  looked  on  nature  with  the 

^^      ^^  eve  of  an  artist,  but  not  of  an   artist  in  black  and 

sense 
impressions         white.      Lt   was   not   form   but   rnlor  that  attracted 

llim.  There  are  occasional  descriptions,  as  of  the 
garden  in  Sprifig''  and  of  the  precious  stones  in  Summer,''  where 
the  lines  glow  like  a  painter's  palette,  and  throughout  The  Sea- 
sons there  is  a  general  impression  of  rich  and  varied  coloring. 
That  this  impression  is  stronger  than  a  list  of  the  color  terms 
used  would  seem  to  justify  is  due  to  two  facts,  both  characteristic 
of  Thomson's  work  in  general.  In  the  first  place  he  did  not  care  , 
for  nicely  discriminated  shades  or  delicate  tints.  He  loved 
broad  masses  of  strong,  clear  color.  He  dwells  with  ever  new 
delight  on  blue  as  seen  in  the  sky  or  reflected  in  water,  and  on 
green,  "smiling  Nature's  universal  robe."  In  the  second  place 
he  is  especially  rich  in  such  words  as  indicate  color  in  general 
without  specification  as  to  the  kind.  "  The  flushing  year,"  "  every- 
coloured  glor}',"  "the  boundless  blush  of  spring,"  "the  innu- 
merous-colored  scene  of  things,"  "unnumbered  dyes,"  "hues  on 
hues,"  are  typical  phrases.  Motion  also  caught  his  eye  more  j 
quickly  than  form.  The  dancing  light  and  shade  in  a  forest 
pathway,  the  waving  of  branches,  the  flow  of  water,  the  rapid 
flight  or  slow  march  of  clouds,  the  golden,  shadowy  sweep  of 
wind  over  ripened  grain,  count  for  much  in  the  pleasurable 
impression  made  upon  his  mind  by  different  scenes. 

It   is   evident   that  Thomson   received   more  through  his  eye 
than  through  his  ear,  but  he  was  very  far  from  being  indifferent 

_,       ,  to  the  sounds  of   nature.     The   hum  of  bees,  the 

Sound  ' 

low  of  cattle,  the  bleating  of  sheep  are  frequently 
noted.  The  songs  of  birds,  while  often  represented  by  some 
general  phase,  as  "the  music  of  the  woods,"  or  "woodland 
hymns,"  are  now  and  then  more  minutely  specified,  as  in  the 
fine  description   of  the  "symphony  of  spring. "^     There  is  also 

'Spring,  529-555-  'Spring,  574-6i3- 

2  Summer,  140-159.      Suggested  probably  by  Mallet.     See  Letter,  August 

2,  1726:     "Your  hint  of  the  sapphire,  emerald,  ruby,  strikes  my  imagination 

with  a  pleasing  taste,  and  shall  not  be  neglected." 


78  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

effective  representation  of  the  sounds  heard  in  storms,  as  in  the 
summer  thunder-storm."  The  most  frequent  sounds  are,  as  is 
inevitable  in  an  English  poet  whose  facts  come  from  actual 
observation,  those  made  by  water,  as  the  plaint  of  purling  rills, 
the  thunder  of  impetuous  torrents,  or  the  growling  of  frost- 
imprisoned  rivers. 

While  Thomson  was  not  the  first  poet  to  speak  of  the  odor 
of  the  bean-flower,  his  words  show  a  keen  appreciation  of  that 
\  perfume,  and  certainly  the  "smell  of  dairy,"  was  a  country  odor 
first  poetically  noticed  by  him.  His  sensitiveness  to  odors  is  not 
especially  marked,  yet  it  is  safe  to  say  that  he  was  in  this  respect 
more  observant  than  his  immediate  predecessors  or  contempo- 
raries. 

In  reading  the  poetry  of  nature  after  Dryden  in  his- 
torical sequence,  there    is,  in  coming  to  The  Seasons,   a  sudden 

sense  of  freedom  and  elation,  a  sense  of  having  at 

Abundant  ,     ^  ..        u  •..  r       i  j 

^    ,  ,      ,  last  come    upon  a    poet    who    writes     freely  and 

knowledge  spontaneously  from  a    large    personal   experience, 

whose  facts  press  in  upon  him  even  too  abundantly. 
He  knows  many  kinds  of  nature  and  under  varying  aspects.  His 
garden  picture,  though  somewhat  too  much  in  the  floral  catalogue 
style,  shows  how  well  he  knew  the  cultivated  flowers  he  described, 
and  he  speaks  with  no  less  loving  minuteness  of  furze,  the  thorny 
brake,  the  purple  heather,  dewy  cowslips,  white  hawthorn,  and 
lilies  of  the  vale.  It  is  a  pleasure  to  see  how  much  he  knew 
about  birds.  He  describes  their  habits  with  remarkable  accu- 
racy and  minuteness.  He  shows  their  tender  arts  in  courtship,' 
their  skill  in  nest-building, ^and  the  "  pious  frauds"  whereby  they 
lure  away  the  would-be  trespasser.'*  In  no  poetry  between  Mar- 
veil  and  Thomson  do  we  find  birds  so  fully  described,  and  Mar- 
vell  has  nothing  so  charming  and  sympathetic  as  Thomson's 
winter  red-breast. ^  Thomson's  scope  is  also  wider  in  that  he 
knew  the  birds  of  the  seashore  *  as  well  as  those  of  wood  and 
meadow.     Equally  close  attention  is  given  to  the  various  domestic 

'  Summer,  1116-1168.  4  Spring,  690-701. 

^  Spring,  614-630.  5  Winter,  245-256. 

3  Spring,  636-660.  6  Spring,  21-25;  Winter,  144-147. 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY      79 

fowl.  The  peacock  had  flaunted  his  painted  tail  through  poetry 
for  a  hundred  years,  and  is  now  for  the  first  time  outranked  as  an 
object  of  interested  observation  by  the  hen,  the  duck,  and  the 
turkey.'  The  frequent  descriptions  of  domestic  animals,  especi- 
ally the  sheep,^  the  horse, ^  and  the  ox,'*  also  show  minute  knowl- 
edge such  as  could  not  have  been  gained  by  books.  It  is,  more- 
over, a  significant  fact  that  through   these    numer- 

Love  for  a    "    ■   a     ^   a-       ^x.  ■        i 

ous  and  varied  studies  there  runs  a  jjenuine  love 
animals  * 

for  animals.  Thomson  was,  at  least  in  poetic 
theory,  a  vegetarian,  and  he  vigorously  denounced  the  killing  of 
animals  for  food  as  conduct  worthy  only  of  wild  beasts. ^  His 
poetical  invectives  against  hunting  are  as  vigorous  as  Cowper's.*^ 
He  objects  to  caging  birds,'  and  his  indignation  waxes  high 
over  the  bees  "  robb'd  and  murder'd  "  by  man's  tyranny.* 
The  only  unoffending  animal  that  escapes  Thomson's  wide 
sympathy  is  the  fish.'  The  skill  with  which  the  monarch  of 
the  brook  is  lured  from  his  dark  haunt  and  at  last  "  gaily  " 
dragged  to  land  is  described  with  a  gusto  in  curious  contrast  to 
the  pity  lavished  on  the  tortured  worm  that  mav  have  served  for 
bait.'° 

As  we  have  just  seen,  the  animals  that  Thomson  described  were 
those    that    any  country  lad  might  know  rather  than  those  that 

had  been  canonically  set  apart  for  poetical  service. 

r     .  ^  The    same   independent    iudsfment    is    evident  in 

of  winter  r  j      o 

his  study  of  other  neglected  realms  in  the  world  of 
nature.  He  gloried  in  storms  and  winter.  Though  he  now 
and  then  falls  into  the  conventional  phraseology,  and  speaks 
of  winter  as  drear  and  awful,  he  yet  in  the  same  breath  exclaims 
that  he  finds  its  horrors  congenial.  The  contrast  of  a  first 
winter  in  London  turns  his  mind  with  full  emphasis  to  the  days 
of  his  youth  when  he  wandered  with  unceasing  joy  through 
virgin  snows,  and  listened  to  the  roar  of  the  winds  and  the  burst- 

'  Spring,  770-785.  *  Autumn,  360-457;  Winter,  788-793. 

2  Summer,  371-422.  i  Spring,  702-728. 

3  Spring,  808-820;  Summer,  506-515.^  Autumn,   II 72-1 207. 
"  Spring,  362-371;  Summer,  489-493.  '  Spring,  394-442. 

s  Spring,  336-373-  '°  Spring,  388-389. 


8o  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

ing  torrent,  and  watched  the  deep  tempest  brewing  in  the  grim 
sky.  Such  experiences  he  remembers  with  joy  for  they  "  exalt 
the  soul  to  solemn  thought."'  Through  all  the  descriptive  por- 
tions of  the  Winter  there  is  a  vigorous,  manly  enthusiasm  as 
tonic  and  bracing  as  the  bright,  frosty  days  themselves. 
Thomson's  pleasure  in  the  sterner  phenomena  of  nature  is  fur- 
ther shown  by  his  evident  delight  in  tracing  the  progress  of  any 
storm,  whether  the  thunder  storm  of  summer/  the  devastating 
wind  and  rain  of  autumn,'  or  the  black  gloom  of  a  winter  tempest.* 
These  fierce  tempests  certainly  are  of  more  comparative  impor- 
tance in  The  Seasons  \}i\zxi  X\it.y  2iXQ.  in  nature.  Their  frequent 
choice  may  be  in  part  due  to  their  dramatic  qualities  of  rapidity 
and  force.  The  crashing  and  hurtling  of  the  elements  was  a 
subject  not  unsuited  to  Thomson's  splendid  but  ponderous  and 
swelling  style.  But  in  the  main  it  is  only  fair  to  suppose  that  he 
wrote  of  storms  well  because  he  had  many  times  watched  them 
with  an  interest  that  had  made  him  remember  them. 

With  many  other   aspects   of  nature  was   Thomson    familiar. 
He  knew  much  of  the  sky  both  by  day  and  by  night.     His  few 

short  descriptions  of  the   starry  heavens  are  worth 
The  sky 

more  than  all  Young's  far-sought  epithets.^     One 

phrase  concerning  the  radiant  orbs 

"  That  more  than  deck,  thai  animate  the  sky,"  ^ 

seems  a  conscious  turning  away  from  the  old  artificial  concep  - 
tion.  One  of  the  finest  moon-light  passages^  is  reminiscent  of 
Milton  in  two  lines, 

'  Now  through  the  passing  cloud  she  seems  to  stoop, 
Now  up  the  pure  cerulean  rides  sublime," 

but  the  close, 

"  The  whole  air  whitens  with  a  boundless  tide 
Of  silver  radiance,  trembling  round  the  world," 

is  Thomson's  own,  and  is  a  good  example  of  the   full   sweet  har- 

'  Winter,  1-14.  s  See  as  illustrative:  Winter,  127,  738-741. 

^  Summer,  1103-1168.  *  Summer,  1704. 

3  Autumn,  31 1-348.  ^  Autumn,  1088-1 102. 

'■  Winter,  72-201.  • 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY     8i 

mony  that  marks  his  verse  at  its  best.  There  are  many  passages 
andapparentlv  casual  phrases  indicativeof  the  closeness  with  which 
he  watched  clouds.'  The  doubling  fogs  that  roll  around  the  hills 
and  wrap  the  world  in  a  "  formless  gray  confusion  "  through  which 
the  shepherd  stalks  gigantic  is  described  with  a  Wordsworthian 
felicity  and  precision.^ 

The  descriptions  referred  to    below  of  early  morning, ^  of  sun- 
set/of  evening, =  and  of  night*  may  be  perhaps  taken  as  among  the 
best  examples  of  their  sort  in  The  Seasons.  As  a  whole 

thev  show  conclusivelv  from  what  long  intimacy  with 
sunset  '  •  o  J 

evening  nature    Thomson    wrote.     The    very    freshness    of 

morning  breathes  from  the  sunrise  picture  in  Sum- 
mer and  the  little  picture  in  Autumn  is  more  delicately  sugges- 
tive than  many  a  more  pretentious  description  of  the  dawning 
day.  The  sunset  after  the  rain  in  Spring  is  one  of  the  best  exam- 
ples of  Thomson's  power  to  paint  word  pictures.  It  would  be 
difficult  for  any  canvas  to  present  a  scene  at  once  so  mellow  and 
radiant,  and  so  transfused  with  the  joy  of  a  renovated  earth.  As 
exquisite  in  their  way  are  the  descriptions  of  the  slow  approach  of 
"Sober  Evening"  with  her  circling  shadows  and  the  softly  swell- 
ing breeze  that  stirs  the  stream  and  wood  ;  and  the  later  description 
of  the  strange  uncertain  mingling  of  light  and  darkness  in  a  sum- 
mer night  in  England.  These  passages  and  others  that  might  be 
quoted  show  to  what  fine  issues  Thomson's  pen  was  sometimes 
touched,  but  it  cannot  be  denied  that  his  really  intimate  and  exact 
knowledge  of  nature  and  her  ways  could  not  hold  all  his  descrip- 
tions subject  to  the  charm  of  simplicity  and  truth. 

As  further  illustrative  of  Thomson's  knowledge  of  all  that  per- 
tained to  the   country   we  have  his  admirably  vivid 
and  detailed  accounts    of  the  homely  labors  of  a 
farmer's  life,  as    plowing,^  sowing,^  reaping,'  hay  making,'"  and 

'See  as  illustrative,  Spring,  30-31,   139-141,   145-151,  398-444;    Winter 
54-57,  77-80,  195-196,  202-203,  etc. 

Autumn,  710-731.   cf.  Wordsworth:  Prelude  8:265. 
3  Autumn,  151-152.  Summer,  47-66.  ^Spring,  34-43. 

*  Spring,  189-202.  ^^^--^  ^Spring,  44-47. 

5  Summer,  i647-i655,.^.--'''''^  «  Autumn,  153-169. 

*  Summer,  168^-1698.  »°  Summer,  352-370. 


82)  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 


sheep  shearing.'  Of  these  the  sheep  shearing  is  the  most  simply 
charming  and  natural.  It  is  also  the  most  noteworthy,  because 
sheep  and  shepherds  had  long  been  the  very  substance  out  of 
which  pastorals  were  woven  so  that  in  such  descriptions  the  con- 
trast between  the  new  and  the  old  way  of  looking  at  country  life 
is  sharply  defined.  Thomson's  pastoral  queen  and  shepherd  king 
are  at  the  opposite  pole  from  the  sentimental,  affected,  useless 
nymphs  and  swains  who  had  before  posed  as  the  guardians  of 
English  sheep.  His  shepherds  are  sturdy  fellows,  doing  hon- 
est work  and  plenty  of  it,  and  as  such  they  had  no  predeces- 
sors in  English  classical  poetry.  The  sheep,  too,  are  real  animals. 
They  have  to  be  watched  with  a  vigilance  of  which  no  flower- 
crowned  swain  playing  on  an  oaten  pipe  would  be  capable.  And 
they  must  be  washed  and  sheared  and  branded.  In  winter  they 
must  be  housed  and  fed  no  matter  what  the  dangers  on  the  dark, 
stormy  hills.  It  is  this  strong,  refreshing  air  of  reality  in  Thom- 
son's poetry,  and  his  unfeigned  respect  and  admiration  for  the 
actual  country  life  in  England  that  completed  the  work  begun  by 
the  ugly  satire  of  Swift  and  the  mock  pastorals  of  Gay,  and  made 
the  old,  conventional,  psuedo-classic  pastoral  from  that  time  on  an 
impossibility  in  English  poetry. 

The  phrase  "  dislike  of  boundaries  "  is  perhaps  not  very  apt,  but 
it  may  serve  to   describe  what  is  certainly  a  pervasive  quality  of 

Thomson's  work,  and  a    significant  quality    for    if 

Dislike  of  ,,  ^,  .  ,       .        ^,  ^, 

,    .  there  was  one  thing  more  pleasing  than  another  to 

boundaries  ^  r  o 

an  orthodox  classicist  it  was  a  well  defined  limit. 
Thomson  preferred  the  blank  verse  to  the  couplet  because  the 
unrhymed,  flowing  lines  gave  a  certain  freedom.  There  is  an  air 
of  abundance,  of  even  undue  exuberance  about  much  of  his  work. 
Even  his  diction  presents  this  idea  of  lavishness.  There  is  a  sur- 
prisingly large  number  of  such  words  as  effulgent,  refulgent,  effu- 
sion, diffusion,  suffusion,  profusion  from  the  roots  fundo  and 
fulgeo  with  their  idea  of  a  liberal  pouring  out.  Luxuriant,  ample, 
prodigal,  boundless,  unending,  ceaseless,  immense,  interminable, 
immeasurable,  vast,  infinite,  are  typical  words. 
'Summer,  371-442. 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY     83 

"  Profusely  poured  around, 
Materials  infinite," 

"  Infinite  splendor  wide  investing  all," 

"  To  the  far  horizon  wide-diffused, 
A  boundless  deep  immensity  of  shade," 

Night  "a  shade  immense,  magnificent  and   vast," 

are  typical  phrases.  In  one  short  description  the  birds  are 
"innumerous  ;  "  they  are.  "prodigal  "  of  harmony;  their  joy  over- 
flows in  music  "unconfined";  the  song  of  the  linnets  is  "  poured 
out  profusely." '  In  another  short  passage  the  stores  of  the  vale 
are  "lavish,"  the  lily  is  "luxuriant;"  and  grows  in  fair  "pro- 
fusion," the  flowers  are  "unnumbered,"  beauty  is  "unbounded," 
and  bees  fly  in  "swarming  millions."-  When  images  come 
into  his  mind  it  is  by  the  ten  thousand.  In  spring  the  country 
is  "one  boundless  blush,"  "far  diffused  around."  He  loves 
the  "  liberal  air,"  "lavish  fragrance,"  "  full  luxuriance,"  extensive 
harvests,"  "immeasurable,"  or  "exhaustless"  stores,  "copious 
exhalations."  All  is  superlative,  exaggerated,  scornful  of  limits. 
It  was  "the  unbounded  scheme  of  things"  that  most  appealed 
to  him. 

The  same  point  receives  illustration  in  his  sense  for  landscape. 

He   rejoiced  in  a  wide  view.^  He  loved  to  seek  out  some  proud 

eminence  and  there  let  his  eye  wander   "far  excur- 

Feeling  for  sive,"    and  dwell   on  "  boundless  prospects."  Such     ^ 

landscape  •  ^        ,  ,  .  ,  ,         . 

scenes  not  only  gave  him  a  chance  for  picturesque 

enumerations  without  any  especial  demand  for  minute  discrimina- 

tion,  but  they  satisfied  his  preference  for  grand,  general  effects. 

Closely  connected  with  the  sense  for  landscape  is  the  use   of 

geographical     romance,''     or     the    heightening    of    poetic    effect 

by    the    accumulation    of  sounding    geographical    names. ^     The 

'  Spring,  589-608. 
=  Spring,  494-509. 

3  Spring,  107-113,  950-962;  Summer,  1406-1441. 

4  W.  D.  McClintock;  Unpublished  notes. 

5  Summer,  819-829;  Autumn,  781-804,  cf.  Shairp:  Poetic  Interpretation    of 
Nature,  p.  191,  for  the  geographical  use' of  nature  in  Milton. 


84  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

finest    example    of    this    device    is    in    the    lines    descriptive    of 

the  thunder  re-echoed  among  the  mountains.'      In  this  passage 

the  impression  of  sublimity  is  due  to  the  suggestions 

Geographical  qJ  mysterious  elemental  forces  subtly  associated  with 
romance  ,  ^  ,,  o  j 

such  names  as  Carnarvon,  Penmanmaur,  Snowden, 

Thule,  and  Cheviot.^  This  mental  following  of  the  thunder  from 
peak  to  distant  peak,  this  endeavor  to  strengthen  the  impres- 
sion by  the  use  of  the  remote  and  the  unknown,  show  a  mind  set 
toward  romantic  rather  than  classical  ideals. 

A  further  indication   of  Thomson's  defiance   of  limits  is  his 
curiosity.     His    mind  goes  back  of    the   present  fact  and    rest- 
lessly strives  after  causes  and  origins.^     In  imagination  he  seeks 
to  penetrate  to  the  vast  eternal  springs  from    which 

Intellectual        nature    refreshes    the     earth.-*      The     most     poetic 
curiosity  ,       ^    ,  .  .      .  ......        ,  , 

example  or  this  questioning  spirit  is  m  his  address 

to  the  winds  that  blow  with  boisterous  sweep  to  swell  the  terrors 

of  the  storm. 

"  In  what  far-distant  region  of  the  sky, 
Hush'd  in  deep  silence,  sleep  you  when  'tis  calm  ?  "5 

The  classical  spirit  held  itself  to  useful  questions  that  could 
have  some  rational  answer.  It  is  the  romantic  spirit  that  pushes 
its  inquiries  into  the  realms  of  the  unknowable. 

Throughout  this  study  of  Thomson's  work  there  has  been  an 
.implicit  recognition  of  his  strong  love  for  nature.  This  fact 
receives  further  definite  confirmation  from  his 
letters.  It  is  interesting  to  note  that  his  early 
life  was  almost  as  fortunate  in  its  environment  as 
Wordsworth's.  When  he  was  a  year  old  his  father  moved  to 
Southdean,  a  small  hamlet  near  Jedborough.  Here  the  lad 
remained  till  he  entered  the  University  at  Edinburgh  at 
fifteen,*  and    here  he    apparently  passed  most  of  his  vacations 

'  Summer,  1 161-1168. 

^  Cf.  Wordsworth:  To  Joanna,  54-65- 

3  Winter,  714-716;  Spring,  849-852. 

■•  Autumn,  773-776. 

5  Winter,  116-117. 

*  In  1720    there    appeared  in  the  Ediiilntrgh  Miscellany,  a  poem    entitled. 


Personal  enthu- 
siasm for  nature 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY     85 

till  he  went  to  London  at  twenty-five.  One  of  his  especial  friends 
was  Dr.  Cranston  of  Ancruui,  whose  love  of  nature  was  equal  to 
his  own.  Thomson's  letters  to  Dr.  Cranston,  though  somewhat 
stilted  and  high-flown,  show  clearly  the  eagerness  with  which 
they  had  together  explored  the  picturesque  country  along  the 
Tiviot  and  its  tributary  streams,  the  Ale  and  the  Jed.  In  the  first 
letter  from  London,  under  the  date  April  3,  1725,  was  written, 
"  I  wish  you  joy  of  the  spring."  In  September  of  the  same  year 
Thomson  wrote  from  Barnet: 

"  Now  I  imagine  you  seized  with  a  fine  romantic  kind  of 
melancholy  on  the  fading  of  the  year;  now  I  figure  you 
wandering,  philosophical  and  pensive  'midst  the  brown,  with- 
er'd  groves,  while  the  leaves  rustle  under  your  feet,  the  sun 
gives  a  farewell  parting    gleam,  and  the  birds 

'  Stir  the  faint  note  and  but  attempt  to  sing.' 

"  Then  again  when  the  heavens  wear  a  more  gloomy  aspect, 
the  winds  whistle,  and  the  waters  spout,  I  see  you  in  the  well- 
known  cleugh,  beneath  the  solemn  arch  of  tall,  thick  embower- 
ing trees,  listening  to  the  amusing  lull  of  the  many  steep,  moss- 
grown  cascades,  while  deep,  divine  contemplation,  the  genius  of 
the  place,  prompts  each  swelling  awful  thought.  I  am  sure  you 
would  not  resign  your  place  in  that  scene  at  any  easy  rate.  None 
ever  enjoyed  it  to  the  height  you  do,  and  you  are  worthy  of  it. 
There  I  walk  in  spirit  and  disport  in  its  beloved  gloom.  This 
country  I  am  in  is  not  very  entertaining  ;  no  variety  but  that  of 
woods,  and  them  we  have  in  abundance  ;  but  where  is  the  living 
stream  ?  the  airy  mountain  ?  or  the  hanging  rock  ?  with  twenty 
other  things  that  elegantly  please  the  lover  of  nature.  Nature 
delights  me  in  every  form." 

Later  in  life  Thomson  was  "  more  fat  than  bard  beseems," 

"  On  a  Country  Life  by  a  Student  in  tlie  University."  Tlie  poem  is  interest- 
ing as  being  Tliomson's  first  poetical  treatment  of  the  theme  which  he  was  after- 
wards to  adopt.  The  verse  is  in  somewhat  stiff  and  formal  heroic  couplets,  and 
the  poem  is  marked  by  classicisms.  But  there  are  lines  and  phrases  sugges- 
tive of  Thomson's  later  work  and  the  plan  and  general  tone  are.  as  Sir  Harris 
Nicholas  has  pointed  out,  strongly  suggestive  of  The  Seasons.  The  young 
poet's  love  of  country  life  is  quite  clearly  genuine. 


J 


8  6  TREA  TMENT  OF  NA  TURE  IN  ENGLISH  POE  TR  V 

and  correspondingly  indolent,  and  his  biographers  give  the 
impression  that  no  beauty  of  the  world  about  him  could  cornpete 
with  the  charms  of  an  easy  chair.  But  his  letters  still  bear  witness 
to  a  love  of  nature  as  real  if  not  as  active  as  that  of  his  youth. 
In  July,  1743,  he  wrote  to  Mr.  Lyttleton  promising  to  spend 
some  weeks  with  him  at  Hagley. 

"As  this  will  fall  in  Autumn,  I  shall  like  it  the  better,  for  I 
think  that  season  of  the  year  the  most  pleasing  and  the  most 
poetical.  The  spirits  are  not  then  dissipated  with  the  gaiety  of 
spring,  and  the  glaring  light  of  summer,  but  composed  into  a 
serious  and  tempered  joy.  The  year  is  perfect.  .  .  .  The 
muses,  whom  you  obligingly  say  I  shall  bring  with  me,  I  shall 
find  with  you  —  the  muses  of  the  great,  simple  country,  not  the 
little,  fine-lady  muses  of  Richmond  Hill." 

Again  four  or  five  years  later,  he  wrote  to  Paterson,  "  Retire- 
ment and  nature  are  more  and  more  my  passion  every 
day.'" 

This  passion  for  nature  finds  frequent  expression  in  the  poems, 
but  no  citation  of  specific  instances  can  be  so  convincing  as  the 
general  impression  of  unforced  personal  enthusiasm  made  upon 
the  reader  of  T/ie  Seasons.  Moreover,  Thomson's  conception  of 
the  effect  of  nature  on  man,  the  next  topic,  mav  be  fairly  counted 
as  but  a  transcript  from  his  own  experience,  and  therefore  as 
further  illustrative  of  his  love  for  nature. 

In  The  Seasons  ^s  m  preceding  poetry  both  man  and  nature 

have   a   place,   but   there    is  a   great   transfer  of 

His  thought  of     emphasis.     Nature  had  been  ignored  or  counted 

the  relation  be-     ^^  ^|^g  servant,  the  background,  the  accompani- 

tween  man  and  ^       „  xt        ^1       1  •      •  j      ^ 

ment    of    man.     Now  the    human    incidents  are 
nature 

few   and   unimportant  and  are  used  chiefly  to  lay 
additional  stress  by  their  tone  on  the  spirit  characteristic  of  each 

'Cf.'also  remarks  in  Preface  to  second,  third,  and  fourth  editions  of  Winter: 
"  I  know  no  subject  more  elevating,  more  amusing  ;  more  ready  to  awake  the 
poetical  enthusiasm,  the  philosophical  reflection,  and  the  moral  sentiment, 
than  the  works  of  Nature.  Where  can  we  meet  with  such  variety,  such 
beauty,  such  magnificence  ?  All  that  enlarges  and  transports  the  soul  ?  What 
more  inspiring  than  a  calm,  wide  survey  of  them  ?  " 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY     87 

season.  Nature  is  loved  and  studied  and  described  purely  for 
her  own  sake.  There  is  very  little  use  of  natural  facts  as  similes 
for  human  qualities,  and  there  is,  practicallv,  no  use  of  pathetic 
fallacy.  The  effect  of  nature  on  the  njan  sensitive  to  her  high 
ministration  is  represented  as  twofold.  In  the  first  place  and 
chiefly,  she  storms  his  senses  with  her  ravishing  delights.  She 
gives  him  pleasures  of  the  most  rich  and  varied  sort.  She 
enchants  him  with  color  and  harmony  and  perfume.  These  pleas- 
ures are,  however,  of  the  eye  and  ear.  They  do  not  touch  the 
deeper  joys  of  the  heart.  Of  the  appeal  of  nature  to  the  soul 
of  man,  in  the  true  Wordsworthian  sense,  Thomson  knew  little. 
Yet  occasional  passages  indicate  that  he  had  received  from  nature 
gifts  higher  than  that  of  mere  external,  sensuous  enjoyment. 
He  attributes  to  nature  in  at  least  a  partially  Wordsworthian  I  ^ 
sense,  the  power  of  soothing,  elevating,  and  instructing.  He 
sings  the  "  infusive  force  "  of  spring  on  man, 

"  When  heaven  and  earth  as  if  contending  vie 
To  raise  his  being,  and  serene  his  soul."^ 

It  is  his  delight  to  "  meditate  the  book  of  nature  "  for  thence  he 
hopes  to  "learn  the  moral  song."^     At  the  soft  evening  hour,  he 

"  lonel}'  loves 
To  seek  the  distant  hills,  and  there  converse 
•  With  nature,  there  to  harmonize  his  heart."  3 

Not  only  does  he  attend  to  Nature's  voice  from  month  to  month, 
and  watch  with  admiration  her  everv  shape,  but  he 

"Feels  all  her  sweet  emotions  at  his  heart." 4 

While  these  and  a  few  other  similar  passages  would  hardly  be 
remarked  in  the  poetry  of  nature  after  Wordsworth,  they  are  of 
great  historical  importance  because  they  show  the  early  begin- 
ning of  that  spirit  which  received  its  final  and  perfect  expression 
seventy  years  later  in  The  Lyrical  Ballads. 

Thomson's  two  dominant  conceptions  in  his  thought  of  God 

•Spring,  868-874. 

^Autumn,  670-672.     Cf.  Wordsworth  :     The  Tables  Turned,  st.  6. 

3  Summer,  1 380-1 382. 

■♦Autumn,  1309. 


88  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

and  Nature  were  the  almighty  Creator  and  the  ever-active  Ruler. 

The  whole  tenor  of  his  poems  goes  to  show  that 
His  thought  of  he  saw  in  nature  not  God  himself  but  God's 
God  in  nature    hand.       Even   his  invocations   to  nature,    animate 

and  inanimate,  to  praise  God  in  one  general 
song  of  adoration,  are  but  highly  emotional  and  figurative 
statements  of  the  conception  that  God  is  not  all,  but  Lord 
of  all.  Now  and  then,  however,  in  the  midst  of  the  old 
ideas  there  comes  the  breath  of  a  new  thought.  In  one  line 
we  find  the  cold,  conventional  idea,  in  the  next,  an  intima- 
tion of  divine  immanence.  God's  beauty  walks  forth  in 
the  spring.  His  spirit  breathes  in  the  gales.  The  seasons  "are 
but  the  varied  God."  God  is  the  Universal  Soul  of  Heaven  and 
earth.  He  is  the  Essential  Presence  in  all  nature.'  Such  sen- 
tences as  these,  whether  uttered  consciously,  or  half  uncon- 
sciously under  the  influence  of  poetic  excitement,  clearly  pre- 
figure the  modern  conception  of  the  union  and  interpenetration 
of  the  physical  and  spiritual  worlds. 

Of  the  two  general  points  to  be  kept  in  view  in  the  study  of 
Thomson   as   a  poet  of  nature  the  second  was  a  consideration  of 

his  affiliations  with  the  classical  spirit.     It  is  sur- 

His  affiliations  -^i  -i         r  .  ucci- 

•^,.  X,.     ,      •    prising  to  observe  in  how  few^  respects  such  attili- 
with  the  classi-  ^         o  r 

cal  spirit  ations  can  be  justly  predicated.     There  are  occa- 

sional references  to  his  Doric  reed,  and  frequent 
invocations  to  his  muse.  As  preliminary  justification  of  his 
choice  of  themes  are  quotations  from  Virgil  and  Horace.  The 
authority  of  the  "Rural  Maro"  and  the  example  of  Cincinnatus 
lend  added  dignity  to  the  English  plow.  Personifications  of  the 
conventional  type  often  appear.  There  is  one  purely  didactic 
description  of  the  cure  for  a  pest  of  insects,  and  another  descrip- 
tion of  the  method  by  which  bees  are  robbed  of  their  honey, 
that  are  evidently  framed  on  Latin  models.  Nor  do  we  miss  the 
ever  recurring  advice  to  read  the  page  of  the  Mantuan  swain 
beneath  a  spreading  tree  on  a  warm  noon. 

We  also  find  that  toward  mountains  and  the  sea  Thomson 
held  almost  the  traditional  attitude.     His  nearness  to  the  coast 

'Compare  Pope's  rhetorical  statement  of  the  same  speculative  conception. 


NATURE  FN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY     89 

and  his  knowledge  of  shore  birds  show  that  he  could  not  -have 
been  entirely  ignorant  of  the  ocean,  but  it  apparently  made  little 
impression  on  him,  for  he  seldom  mentions  it  even  casually,  and 
but  once  with  any  emphasis.  It  is  then  one  of  the  elements  of  a 
wild,  fierce  storm  that  sweeps  the  coast.  A  few  of  his  epithets 
for  mountains,  as  "keen-air'd"  and  "  forest-rustling,"  are  new 
though  not  especially  felicitous,  and  he  often  mentions  mountains 
by  name,  or  as  bounding  some  distant  prospect.  But  in  general 
his  conception  and  his  phraseology  are  those  of  his  contempo- 
raries. He  speaks  of  the  Alps  as  "  dreadful,"  as  "  horrid,  vast, 
sublime,"  and  again  as  "  horrid  mountains."  There  is  nowhere  ^ 
any  evidence  of  the  modern  feeling  towards  mountains,  though 
there  are  frequent  expressions  of  appreciative  love  for  green  hills. 

The  point  in  which  Thomson  shows  strongest  traces  of  the 
old  influence  is  his  diction.  He  often  has  the  new  thought  before 
he  has  found  the  appropriate  dress  for  it.  Birds  are  still  the 
"plumy"  or  "feathery  people,"  and  fish  are  the  "finny  race." 
"Shaggy"  and  "nodding"  are  used  of  mountains  and  rocks 
and  forests,  and  "deformed"  and  "inverted"  of  winter,  in 
true  classical  fashion.  "  Maze "  is  one  of  his  most  frequent 
words.  "  Horrid  "  still  holds  a  useful  place.  "  Amusing  "  is 
five  times  applied  to  the  charms  of  some  landscape.  Leaves  are 
the  "  honours  "  of  trees,  paths  are  "  erroneous,"  caverns  "  sweat," 
and  all  sorts  of  things  are  "  innumerous."  He  also  makes  large 
use  of  Latinized  words  such  as  turgent,  bibulous,  relucent,  lucu- 
lent,  irriguous,  gelid,  ovarious,  incult,  concactive,  hyperborean. 
These  words  can  hardly  be  said  to  belong  to  any  received  poetic 
diction.  They  are  rather  a  mannerism  of  Thomson's  style,  and 
an  outgrowth  of  his  delight  in  swelling,  sounding  phrases. 

From  this  summary  we  at  once  perceive  how  few  and  compar- 
atively unimportant  were  the  characteristics  held  in  common 
by  Thomson  and  the  classicists  in  their  treatment  of  external 
nature. 

This  study  of   TJie  Seasons  shows  that  so  far  as  intrinsic  worth 
is  concerned  the  poems  are  marked  by  a  strange 
mingling    of    merits    and   defects,  but    that,    con- 
sidered in  their  historical  place  in  the  development  of  the  poetry 


/ 


go  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  TV  ENGLISH  POETRY 

of  nature,  their  importance  and  striking  originality  can  hardly 
be  overstated.  Though  Thomson  talked  the  ^language  of 
hij..  day,  his  thought  was  a  new-  one.  He  taught  clearly,  though 
without  emphasis,  the  power  of  nature  to  quiet  the  passions  and 
^  elevate  the  mind  of  man,  and  he  intimated  a  deeper  thought  of 
divine  immanence  in  the  phenomena  of  nature.  But  his 
great  service  to  the  men  of  his  day  was  that  he  shut  up  their 
books,  led  them  out  of  their  parks,  and  taught  them  to  look  on 
nature  with  enthusiasm.  This  service  is  of  the  greater  historical 
value  because  it  was  so  well  adapted  to  the  times.  To  begin 
with,  it  was  a  necessary  first  step.  People  cannot  love  what 
they  do  not  know.  Lead  them  to  nature,  teach  them  to 
observe  with  amazement  and  delight,  and  the  other  steps  fol- 
low in  due  course  in  accordance  with  the  power  of  each  soul 
to  receive    the  deeper    influences    of    nature.       In   the    second 

v/  place,   men    were    just    ready    to    take    this  first   decisive    step 

away  from  the  artificial  to  the  natural.  The  work  of  the  poets 
.  who  immediately  preceded  Thomson  had  been  too  slight  and  frag- 
mentary to  count  for  much  in  the  way  of  influence,  yet  they  were 
most  clear  indications  of  a  tendency,  a  silent  preparation  of  the 
general  poetic  mind,  for  such  work  as  Thomson's.  He  was  at 
once  and  easily  understood  because,  while  his  poems  in  their 
spontaneous    freshness    and    charm,  their    rich,    easy  fullness  of 

/  description,  their  minute  observation,  their  sweep  of  view,  their 

unforced  enthusiasm,  must  have  come  as  a  revelation,  it  was  a 
revelation  in  no  sense  defiant  or  iconoclastic.  In  the  main  it  was 
a  revelation  of  new  delights,  not  of  disturbing  theories,  or  vex- 
ing problems.  A  touch  more  of  subtlety,  of  vision,  of  mystery, 
J  of  the  faculty  divine,  and  Thomson  might  have  waited  for  recog- 
nition as  Wordsworth  did. 

John  Dyer's  more  ambitious  poems,  The  Ruins  of  Rome  (1740) 

and  The  Fleece  [I'je^']),  belong  to  a  much   later  period  than  the 

present.     Of  these  the  first  may  be  passed  over  as 

^  containins:  hardly  a  touch  of  nature.     The  second 

1 700?- 1 758  *  ■' 

is  a  long  didactic  poem  showing  much  technical 

knowledge  of    sheep-raising,   weaving,   dyeing,   and   home    and 

foreign   trade.     It  has   frequent  panegyrics  of  liberty  and  sim- 


NATCKE  IX  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY      91 

plicity.  It  abounds  with  geographical  details,  and  is  notable  as 
having  so  many  full  and  often  exact  descriptive  references  to 
the  rivers  of  Great  Britain.  The  Avon,  the  Severn,  the  Thames, 
the  Towy,  the  Vaga,  the  Ryddol,  the  Yftwith,  the  Clevedoc,  the 
Lune,  the  Coker,  the  Ouze,  and  the  Usk  are  chief  among  these. 
He  is  apparently  always  conscious  of  the  rivers,  rills,  streams,  or 
waterfalls  in  any  landscape.  But  in  general  the  poem  is  conven- 
tional in  diction,"  in  the  choice  of  similitudes,  and  in  the  occa 
sional  descriptions.  Its  use  of  geographical  details,  though 
someiimes  suggestive  and  stimulating,  as  in  the  lines, 

"  Tempestuous  regions,  Darwent's  naked  peaks, 
Snowden  and  blue  Plynlymmon  and  the  wide 
Aerial  sides  of  Cader-yddris  huge,"'' 

is  more  often  simply  wearisome.  It  is  true  of  Dyer,  as  it  was  of 
Thomson,  that  his  really  excellent  poetry  of  nature  was  written 
when  he  was  fresh  from  long  and  familiar  knowledge  of  nature 
in  her  wilder  forms,  and  that  travel  and  contact  with  men  served 
to  dull  the  power  of  these  early  experiences.  Groiigar  Hill  and 
The  Country  Walk  were  published  the  same  year  as  Thomson's 
Winter,  and  were  doubtless  written  the  year  before.  They  could 
not  have  been  in  any  sense  due  to  the  impetus  given  by  Thomson 
to  the  studv  of  nature.  They  are  rather  an  original  and  inde- 
pendent contribution  toward  the  same  end.  They  were  the 
expression  of  personal  experience,  and  the  direct  outcome  of  , 
native  taste  and  singularly  fortunate  environment.  Dyer's  life  \/ 
before  his  school  days  at  Westminster  was  spent  in  the  wild  and 
romantic  country  in  Caermarthenshire,  and  during  the  years 
immediatelv  preceding  the  publication  of  these  two  poems  he 
was  wandering  through  other  parts  of  South  Wales  as  an  "itiner- 
ant painter."  His  previous  study  with  Richardson  had  helj)ed 
to  develop  that  artistic  -sensitiveness  to  external  impressions  so 
apparent  in  his  earlv  work.  He  notes  the  colors  and  shapes  of  the 
trees  grouped  below  him,  the  gloomy  pine  and  sable  yew,  the  blue 
poplar,  the  vellow  beech,  the  tir  with  its  slender,  tapering  trunk, 

'Dyer  uses  almost  as  many    words  ending  in  "y"  as  Ambrose  Philips. 
Stenchy,  towery,  framy,  sleeky,  thready,  copsy,  spiry,  are  illustrative. 
=  The  Fleece.  I:  193. 


92  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

the  sturdy  oak  with  its  broad-spread  boughs.  The  changing 
horizon  line  as  he  climbs  the  hill,  the  long  level  lines  of  the 
lawn,  the  various  movements  of  rivers  running  swift  or  slow, 
through  sun  and  shade,  the  streaks  of  meadow,  the  close,  small 
lines  of  distant  hedges,  the  curling  spires  of  smoke,  are  observa- 
tions that  show  the  trained  eye.'  His  colors  seem  to  be  rather 
carefully  discriminated.  Y£lIow  receives  unusual  emphasis.  The 
linnet's  yellow  plumage,  the  yellow  foliage  of  the  beech,  the 
mountain-tops  shining  yellow  in  the  sun,  and  even  the  "yellow 
barn"  catch  his  eye.  This  preference  for  yellow  characterizes 
his  later  work.  He  speaks  of  "yellow  corn,"  "yellow  tillages," 
"yellowing  plains,"  and  the  "yellow  Tiber."  He  also  liked  the 
words  "golden"  and  "sunny."  Purple  is  applied  to  evening 
and  to  the  groves  at  evening,  and  seems  to  be  used  with  some 
real  sense  of  the  modern  specific  meaning  of  the  word.  In  later 
work  the  color   purple  became  almost   a   stock  epithet  with  him; 

"  Purple  Eve 
Stretches  her  shadows,"'' 

"  When  many-colour'd  Evening  sinks  behind 
The  purple  woods  and  hills, "^ 

"  The  purple  skirts  of  flying  day,"'* 

"  When  evening  mild 
Purples  the  valleys,"  5 

"  Wide  abroad 
Expands  the  purple  deep,"^ 

are  typical  phrases.  He  also  notices  the  "thousand  flaming 
flowers"  in  the  fields,  the  silver  and  gold  of  the  morning  clouds, 
the  shining  of  lakes,  the  evening  colors  reflected  in  slow  streams, 
and  the  soft  fair  hues  of  distant  mountain  summits.     He  delights 

'In  Observations  on  the  River  Wye,  by  William  Gilpin,  pp.  103-108, 
Dyer's  Grongar  Hill  is,  however,  criticised  for  not  accurately  representing  dis- 
tance. The  grove  must  be  distant  if  it  can  be  rightfully  called  purple,  but  the 
castle  beyond  it  "  is  touched  with  all  the  strength  of  a  foreground  ;  you  see  the 
very  ivy  creeping  upon  the  walls." 

=  Fleece,  1:577.  sfleece,  2:  518. 

3Fleece,  2:55.  ^Fleece,  2:241. 

-t Fleece,  2:  jio. 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY     93 

in  the  sounds  of  nature,  especially  in  the  songs  of  birds.  Not 
for  many  years  after  Dyer  is  there  so  effective  a  bit  of  bird-song 
poetry  as  the  closing  lines  of  Grongar  Hill.  Nor  is  he  indiffer- 
ent to  odors,  for  he  notes  the  perfumed  breeze  from  the  valley, 
the  fragrant  brakes,  and  the  sweet  smelling  honeysuckle.  It  is 
worthy  of  note  that  in  these  two  short  poems  nearly  a  hundred - 
natural  facts  are  mentioned. 

In  this  wide  observation  Dyer  includes  some  features  not 
hitherto  counted  as  parts  of  a  poetic  landscape.  The  "windy 
summit  wild  and  high,"  naked  rocks,  and  barren  ground,  are 
mingled  with  the  softer  details,  and 

"Each  gives  each  a  double  charm." 

He   nowhere   dwells  upon  mountains  in  his  descriptions,  but 

the   slight   touches   here   and  there  and   the  general  tone  of  the 

poems  are  sufificient  to  show  his  great  delight  in  mountain  scenery. 

He  represents  himself  as  climbing  slowly  and  looking  back  often 

so  as  not  to  miss  a  single   phase  of  the  view   unfolding   before 

him.     Once  on  the  top  he  gazes  out  over  the  lovely  prospect  and 

exclaims, 

"  Now,  even  now,  my  joys  run  high 

As  on  the  mountain  turf  I  lie." 

In  The  Fleece  are  further  indications  of  this  love  of  mountains 
and  wide  views.     The  passage  beginning 

"  Huge  Breaden's  stony  summit  once  I  climbed"' 

is  typical. 

"Those  slow-climbing  wilds,  that  lead  the  step 
Insensibly  to  Dover's  windy  cliff, 
Tremendous  height !  "^ 
and 

"  By  the  blue  steeps  of  distant  Malvern  walled, 
Solemnly  vast."'' 

have  something  of  the  modern  touch. 

The  prevailing  interest  in  these  poems  is  in  nature,  but  there 
are  one  or  two  charming  pictures  of  homely  life.  The  old  man's 
hut  and  garden  on  the  edge  of  the  wood,  and  the  barnyard  scene  are 

'  The  Fleece,   1:555.  ^The  Fleece,  i:  41. 

3  The  Fleece,   i:  59. 


94  TREATMENT  OE  NATURE  TV  ENGLISH  POETRY 

as  attractive  as  they  are  realistic.  And  surely  the  tattered  old  man 
digging  up  cabbage  in  the  shade  might  have  been  expected 
to  wait  at  least  for  Crabbe  or  Wordsworth  to  introduce  him  into 
the  select  company  of  the  Muses.  The  same  may  be  said  of  the 
tramp  asleep  by  the  roadside.' 

In  any  tabulation  Dyer's  use  of  nature  would  seem  to  be  much 
more  abundant  than  it  is  for  in  The  Fleece  he  of  necessity  used  a 
large  number  of  geographical  details  merelv  to  mark  out  localities 
and  with  no  more  literary  quality  than  there  would  be  on  a  map. 
His  chief  use  of  nature  is  twofold,  and  is  best  seen  in  the  short 
poems,  Gro/igar  Hill  and  The  Coiuitry  Walk.  He  describes  a 
landscape  with  loving  minuteness  for  its  own  sake,  and  he  regards 
it  as  the  occasion  for  a  strain  of  half-melancholy  reflection  on 
human  life.  This  gentle,  quainth'  precise  moralizing  is  unlike 
the  typical  classical  didacticism  in  that  it  seems  to  spring  inev- 
itably from  the  effect  of  natural  objects  on  the  poet's  mind, 
instead  of  being  itself  the  main  thing  and  laboriously  illustrated 
by  such  natural  facts  as  came  to  hand. 

The  entire  impression  made  by  the  two  poems  is  that  they 
were  written  by  one  who  knew  nature  better  then  books.  The 
negative  as  well  as  the  positive  qualities  of  the  poem  show  this. 
There  are  almost  no  conventional  phrases.^  Of  the  personified 
abstract  qualities,  two  at  least.  Pleasure  and  Quiet,  are  so  imagi- 
natively conceived  as  not  to  belong  to  the  category  of  cold  classi- 
cal personifications.  The  only  classical  allusion  is  significant  as 
being  to  the  "  fair  Castalian  springs  "  deserted  now  by  all  but 
'  slavish  hinds.' ^  But  the  poems  show  something  more  than  first- 
hand as  opposed  to  bookish  knowledge  of  nature.  Their  author 
evidently  loved  to  linger  over  the  charms  of  nature  in  solitude, 
to  let  them  sink  into  his  mind  and  heart.  There  is  a  power  of 
quiet  contemplation,  of  "  wise  passiveness, "  such  as  Thomson 
never  knew.     The  closing  lines  of  Grongar  Hill, 

'  The  Country  Walk,  86-99  ;   .t3-40- 
.- He  calls  the  sun   "Phoebus"  and    "Apollo;"    he   occasionally  uses    such 
words  as  swain,  bloomy,  sylvan,  verdant,  flowery;    and  he  speaks  of  "the  wan- 
ton zephyr  ;"  and  he  refers  to  a  grove  as  the  "  haunt  of  Phyllis." 

n'he  Country  Walk.    II.  58-63. 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY     95 

"  Be  full,  ye  courts  ;  be  great  who  will  ; 

Search  for  Peace  with  all  your  skill  : 

Open  wide  the  lofty  door, 

Seek  her  on  the  marble  floor, 

In  vain  you  search,  she  is  not  there  ; 

In  vain  ye  search  the  domes  of  care ! 

Grass  and  flowers  Quiet  treads, 
•  On  the  meads,  and  mountain  heads. 

Along  with  Pleasure,  close-ally'd. 

Ever  by  each  other's  side  : 

And  often,  by  the  murmuring  rill. 

Hears  the  thrush,  while  all  is  still, 

Within  the  groves  of  Grongar  Hill," 

show  a  wonderfully  true  and  delicate  appreheiasion  of  the  spirit- 
ual influences  that  speak  through  nature's  forms.  It  is  putting 
into  plainer  words  what  was  the  underlying  conception  in  Par- 
\\^\V%  Hyjunto  ConteuhJient. 

As  has  been  observed,  Dyer  speedily  left  his  first  love  and 
devoted  himself  to  laborious,  didactic  blank  verse.  We  cannot*^ 
find  that  his  two  short  poems  attracted  much  attention  at  the 
time.  Thomson's  glory  blazed  forth  so  effulgently  that  lesser 
lights  were  but  dimly  seen.  Now%  however,  as  we  go  from  poet 
to  poet  o""  the  period,  w^e  cannot  fail  to  be  impressed  by  the  unu- 
sual sincerity,  simplicity,  and  truth  with  which  Dyer  wrote  of  nature. 
And  we  feel  that  while  he  lacked  Thomson's  power  and  fertility, 
he  was  quite  equal  to  him  in  originality,  and  superior  to  him  in 
delicacy. 

David  Mallet's  chief  poems   in  which  there  is  use  of  external 
nature  are  A  Fragment,    The  Excursion,  and    Ai/iyntor  and  Theo- 
dora.   The  undated  A  Fras^ment  reads  like  a  poetical 
D-avid  Mallet  ■       •       ,  ,         ,   X       ,     ^,      ^  jrr   „ 

,  ,-,>  ^  ,  exercise  in  the  style  of  Dyer  s  The  Country  Walk 
(1705  (?)-i765)  -  ^ 

and  Grongar  Hill.  The  octosyllabic  verse,  the 
general  plan  of  a  walk  at  different  times  of  day,  the  ascent  of 
a  hill  for  the  view,  the  pleasure  in  the  solitude  of  nature,  the  mor- 
alizing invocations  to  Health  and  Freedom,  are  all  suggestive  of 
Dyer.  The  description  of  the  noontide  woodland  retreat,  of  the 
forest  sounds,  and  of  the  poet's   revery  are  like   passages  in   The 


96  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

Country  Walk,  while  both   the   spirit  and  form  of  some  passages 
in  Grongar  Hill  are  paralleled  by  such  lines  as, 

"  On  the  brow  of  mountain  high 
In  silence  feasting  ear  and  eye,"' 
or 

"And  then  at  utmost  stretch  of  eye 

A  mountain  fades  into  the  sky  ; 

While  winding  round,  diffused  and  deep, 

A  river  rolls  with  sounding  sweep. "^ 

The  Excursion  and  Atnyntor  and  Theodora  are  interesting 
because  of  their  relation  to  the  work  of  Thomson.  Thomson  and 
Mallet  were  students  together  at  Edinburgh,  and  there  was  evi- 
dently a  close  literary  comradeship  between  them  which  lasted 
through  the  first  years  of  their  London  life.  During  the  sum- 
mer of  1726  they  were  both  engaged  in  literary  work,  the  result 
of  which  was,  on  Thomson's  part,  Summer,  and  on  Mallet's,  about 
300  lines  of  the  first  canto  of  The  Excursion?  There  was  a  vig- 
orous interchange  of  letters  concerning  the  two  poems,  each 
author  giving  advice  and  criticism  on  the  passages  sent  him  by 
the  other.'*  A  comparison  of  the  poems  shows  numerous  resem- 
blances. As  an  illustration  we  may  take  the  sunrise  with  which 
each  poem  opens.  The  order  of  occurrences  is  the  same  in  each — 
night,  faint  gleams  in  the  east,  breaking  clouds,  rising  mists,  re- 
treat of  wild  animals,  song  of  birds,  work  of  shepherds,  full  ris- 
ing of  sun,  praise  to  God,  reflections  on  the  inspiration  to  be 
gained  from  nature.  There  are  also  many  curious  verbal  similar- 
ities. In  Thomson  the  meek-eyed  Morn,  mother  of  detvs,  comes 
faint-gleaming  in  the  east  to  destroy  night's  doubtful  empire,  and 
before  the  lustre  of  her  face  the  clouds  break  white  away.  In  Mallet 
sacred  Morn  pale-glimmering  comes  with  dewy  radiance  through 
the  doubtful twWxghi  and  spreads  a  zvhitening  lustre  over  the  sky. 
In  Thomson  the  powerful  King  of  Day  looks  vd  boundless  maj- 
esty abroad.      In  Mallet  the  King  of  Glory  looks  abroad  on  nature. 

'Cf.   Grongar  Hill,  1.  137. 

^Cf.  The  Country  Walk,  1.  120. 

3  Thomson  to  Mallet,  Sept.  1726. 

-t  Thomson's  Letters  to  Mallet  in  1726. 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY     97 

These  are  but  suggestions  of  the  many  unmistakable  but  baffling 
and  intricately  interwoven  similarities  m  the  two  poems.  If  we 
had  but  these  two  poems  it  would  be,  perhaps,  impossible  to  say 
which  poet  exerted  the  stronger  influence.  Thomson's  deference 
to  Mallet's  judgment  is  evident.  Winter  was  submitted  to  him  for 
correction,'  and  the  splendid  passage  on  precious  stones  in  Sum- 
mer was  an  addition  proposed  by  him.''  Thomson  also  greatly 
admired  Mallet's  work.^  Thomson's  work,  on  the  other  hand,  bears 
the  impress  of  a  genuine  enthusiasm  and  a  many-sided  personal 
experience,  while  Mallet's  work  reads  like  that  of  a  facile  versi- 
sifier  speaking  out  of  a  meager  experience  and  with  a  forced 
enthusiasm.  At  any  rate,  when  we  come  to  Amyutor  and  Theodora, 
published  years  after  the  full  edition  of  The  Seasons,  Mallet  is 
clearly  imitative  in  thought  and  phrase.  The  ocean,  for  instance, 
is  described  as  "  through  boundless  space  diffused,  magnificently 
dreadful."  Again  it  is  "  diffused  immense,"  and  "  magnificently 
various."  In  its  depths  "  immeasurably  sunk,"  "  ten  thousand 
thousand  tribes  endless  range."  Its  stormy  waves  are  "mountains 
surging  to  the  stars,  commotion  infinite "  and  they  break  in 
"  boundless  undulation."  Storms  are  presaged  by  "  doubling 
clouds  on  clouds."  The  earth  glows  with  "the  boundless  blush  of 
spring."  At  sunset  the  sea  shines  with  "  an  unbounded  blush." 
A  comparison  of  these  phrases  with  those  quoted  from  Thomson, 
on  pages  82  and  83  will  serve  to  show  in  how  exaggerated  and 
inartistic  a  form  Thomson's  mannerisms  reappeared  in  the  later 
work  of  Mallet.  Mallet's  work,  if  it  had  been  first  in  the  field, 
would  have  marked  a  distinct  advance  in  the  conception  of  nature. 
As  it  is  he  is  of  real  importance  as  indicating  the  influence  of 
Dyer,  and  especially  of  Thomson. 

Richard  Savage's    The   Wanderer  appeared  in    1729.   Of  this 

poem  Dr.  Johnson  says  that  it  was  "  never  denied 
^    to  abound  with  strong  representations  of  nature," 

but  a  study  of  the  five  long,  confused,  formless  can- 
tos hardly  confirms  such   an  opinion.      Most  of  the  descriptions, 

'  Letter  to  Mallet,  July  10,  1725. 

2  Letter  to  Mallet,  Aug.  2,  1726. 

3  Letters  to  Mallet,  June  13  and  July  10,  1726. 


98  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

like  those  of  Mallet's  Excursion,  are  of  scenes  too  remote  for 
damaging  comparisons  with  the  reality,  as  of  sunrise  at  the  north 
pole,  or  of  wide  prospects  from  unknown  mounts.  The  various 
details  are  brought  together  with  little  sense  of  unity.  He  called 
the  poem  a  vision,  and  he  had  perhaps  a  right  to  dream-like  com- 
binations of  facts,  but  the  result  is  not  a  contribution  to  the  study 
of  external  nature.  His  diction  is  vague'  and  inexpressive. 
There  is  large  use  of  stock  poetic  words,  and  there  are  many 
Thomsonian  echoes.  Most  of  the  descriptions  are  tame,  classical 
imitations.  They  show  almost  no  first-hand  knowledge  of  the 
country.  There  is,  however,  one  characteristic  of  his  poetry  that 
cannot  fail  to  arrest  the  attention,  and  that  is  his  use  of  color.  Not 
even  Thomson  is  so  lavish  with  bright  tints,  and  they  are  some- 
times nicel}'  discriminated.  Illustrative  passages  are  referred  to 
in  the  note."  He  observes  the  color  of  "  crooked,  sunny  roads" 
that  change  "from  brown,  to  sandy-red,  and  chalky  hues."  He 
perceives  the  "green  grass  yellowing  into  hay."  His  sunset  sky 
has  several  colors  that  had  not  been  noted  in  poetrv.  Some  of 
the  clouds  had  "  the  unripen'd  cherry's  die;"  others  were  "  mild 
vermilion,"  "  streaked  through  white,"  and  there  was  in  the  sky 
a  tinge  of  "  floating  green,"  the  result  of  the  "  blue  veil'd  yellow' 
of  certain  distant  clouds.  In  a  moonrise  picture  there  are 
eight  colors,  besides  twelve  words  indicative  of  brightness, 
and  that  in  a  description  of  thirteen  lines.  The  best  of  these 
descriptions  is  that  of  the  peas  and  beans  in  blossom.  Refer- 
ences such  as  those  to  the  peas  that  with  their  "  mixed  flowers  of 
red  and  azure  "  run  in  "  colour'd  lajies  along  the  furrows,"  and  to 
the  beans  that  after  a  rain  "  fresh  blossom  in  a  speckled  llower" 
bear  the  mark  of  tirst-hand  observation.  The  same  may  be  said 
of  his  brief  touches  descriptive  of  the  roads  and  the  fields  and 
the  sunset  skv  already  referred  to.  There  is  also  fairlv  abundant 
reference  to  birds,  though  but  a  single  line, 

"  The  bullfinch  whistles  soft  his  flute-like  note," 

'  Cf.  The  Wanderer.  5:237,  238  (roads);  5:253-268  (fields  and  bushes); 
5:230-235  (sunset);  5=363-374  (the  rainbow);  4:59-63  (morning);  3:15-27 
(moonrise);  5:8,  15-20  (foliage  and  flowers);  5:203-210  (bean  fields);  1:195-198 
winter  landscape);  4:85-96  (sunrise). 


IVATUKE  IX  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY      99 

exhibits  any  special  felicity  in  expression.     On  the  whole,  Savage 

is  important  in  the  history  of  the  poetrv  of  nature  merely  for  his 

detailed  insistence  on  color. 

Among  the  minor  poets  of  this  period  was  Stephen  Duck.  He 

spent  most  of  his  life  on  a   farm  where   he   early   began   to  write 

verses  which    attracted    much   local   attention    and 

finally  gained  for  their  author  substantial  favor  at 
( 1 705-1 756)       ^       ■  . 

Court.      His  Thresher' s  Labour  is  interesting  simply 

because  it  is  a  realistic  treatment  of  a  homely  Eng-lish  theme.' 
Duck's  poems  were  popular  in  their  own  day,  but  his  treatment 
of  nature  is  commonplace. 

The  poetry  of  these  four  years  is  interesting  because  it  indicates 
how  early  Thomson's  influence  made  itself  felt,  as  in  the  work  of 
Mallet  and  Savage;  and  also  because  it  shows  a  use  of  nature 
quite  unlike  Thomson's  and  is  equally  significant  of  coming  tend- 
encies, as  in  the  work  of  Dyer.  — 

THE    POETS    BETWEEN     I73O    AND     I  756. 

The  choice  of  1756  as  the  date  to  mark  the  close  of  this 
period  is  based  on  the  appearance  in  that  year  of  Joseph  War- 
ton's  Essay  on  Pope.  In  the  twenty-six  years  between  Thomson's 
Seasons  and  this  Essay,  the  most  important  literary  works  are 
in  prose,  as  the  novels  of  Fielding,  Richardson,  and'  Smollett, 
and  the  theological  writings  of  Butler,  Hume,  and  VVarburton. 
The  period  is  marked  by  the  establishment  of  numerous  periodi- 
cals, by  the  work  of  editors,  and  of  compilers.  The  most  impor- 
tant poetry  of  the  period  was  the  Essay  on  Man,  Moral  Essays,^ 
and  The  Diinciad  by  Pope.  In  writing  of  this  sort  there  is,  of 
course,  little  use  of  external  nature.  And  it  has  already  been 
shown  that  the  tragedies  of  Thomson  and  the  later  work  of 
Armstrong,  Mallet,  and  Dyer  which  appeared  during  these  years,, 
either  ignore  nature  or  treat  it  in  a  stiff  or  simply  imitative  man- 
ner. But  there  are  in  the  twenty-six  years  poems  that  are  not 
only  in  accord  with  the  changing  attitude  toward  nature,  but  that 
distinctly  aid  in  the  evolution  of  the  new  conception.     The  chief 

'  In  1730  appeared  a  parody  entitled  The  Thresher  s  Miscellany  by  "Arthur 
Duck." 


I  o  o         TKEA  TMENT  OF  NA  TURK  IN  ENGLISH  FOE  FR  Y 

names  are  Soinerville,  Shenstone,  Greene,  Collins,  Young,  Aken- 
side.  Gray,  and  the  Wartons.  There  are  other  authors  whose 
works  are  not,  as  a  whole,  of  importance  in  this  study,  but  who 
have  written  single  poems  of  some  significance.  Some  of  these 
minor  poets  are  Boyse,  Smart,  Cawthorne,  Jago,  Whitehead,  Dr. 
Dalton,  Thompson,  Mendez,  Potter,  Relph,  Coventry,  Mason, 
Cooper,  and  Dodsley. 

Somerville,  "a  country  gentleman  and  a  skillful   and  useful 

Justice  of  the  Peace,"   was  a  mighty  hunter  in  his  day,  and  found, 

in   leisure   hours,   great  pleasure  in  throwing  into 

William  blank  verse  the   accumulated   wisdom    of  years  in 

Somerville       the    field.     7%^'  C//ar^' he  calls  his  "  bold,  instruct- 

(1692-1742)  >)        J     ,.  11  •  1-   ^i_  J 

ive  song,     and  it  so   well   carries  out   the  second 

epithet  as  to  be  of  interest  only  to  his  "brethren  of  the 
couples"  to  whose  kindness  he  commends  it.  There  is  the 
most  minute  description  of  the  kinds  of  hounds,  the  breeding 
of  dogs,  the  care  of  whelps,  their  habits,  their  diseases  and  the 
best  remedies,  and  the  most  desirable  kennels.  In  Field  Sports 
we  have  almost  as  cl-ose  a  description  of  hawking.  Both  poems 
are,  however,  destitute  of  any  real  love  of  nature.'  The  diction, 
except  for  a  free  use  of  canine  technicalities,  is  extremely  limited 
and  commonplace  ;  and  we  look  in  vain  for  the  occasional  happy 
touch,  the  felicitous  epithet  or  line,  that  would  indicate  any 
original  or  appreciative  knowledge  of  the  external  world.  When 
this  vigorous  squire  went  out  to  hunt  he  had  eyes  but  for  the 
dogs  and  the  game.  His  few  descriptions  are  of  the  conven- 
tional type,  as: 

"  Hail,  gentle  Dawnl  mild,  blushing  goddess,  hail  ! 
Rejoic'd  I  see  thy  purple  mantle  spread 
O'er  half  the  skies,  gems  pave  thy  radiant  way, 
And  orient  pearls  from  every  shrub  depend."^ 

They  are  weak  imitations,  lifeless  and  vague.  Hobbiiiol  is  a 
disagreeable  poem.  Its  very  ugly  rural  pictures  might  perhaps 
rank  as  realistic  studies  of  English  country  life,  but  so  far  as  any 
country  atmosphere   is   concerned   they   are   of    no  importance. 

'  The  Chace,  2:79-82. 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY   lot 

The  smock-race,  the  wrestling  match,  the  drunken  affray,  might  as 
well  have  taken  place  in  any  city  slums. 

Somerville  had  a  Catholic  taste  in  poetry.  He  greatly  admired 
Homer,  Virgil,  Pope,  Allan  Ramsay,  and  Thomson.  The  last 
poet  he  not  only  admired,  but  imitated.  The  passage  begin- 
ning, 

"  Justly  supremel   let  us  thy  power  revere,".' 

is   a  pretty  clear   echo  from  Thomson's  Hymn,  and   the  closing 

twenty-five  lines  of   The  Chace  must  have  been  studied  from  the 

closing  twenty-two  lines  of   Autumn.     Somerville  is   noteworthy 

in   the  present  studv  onlv  because  he  wrote  on  country  themes, 

and  imitated  Thomson. 

Shenstone  is  a  much   more  important  figure  in  the  history  of 

the  poetry  of  nature.     His  sensitiveness  to  the  new  spirit  and  his 

reverence  for  the  old  form  make  him  an  interesting 

William  transitional    influence.      His    Prefatory    Essay   on 

Elegy  shows  this  Tanus  attitude  and,  what  is  more, 
(1714-1763) 

his  own   consciousness  of  it.     "  If  the  author  has 

hazarded  throughout  the  use  of  English  or  modern  allusions,  he 
hopes  it  will  not  be  imputed  to  an  entire  ignorance,  or  to  the 
least  disesteem,  of  the  ancient  learning.  He  has  kept  the  ancient 
plan  and  method  in  his  eye,  though  he  builds  his  edifice  with  the 
materials  of  his  own  nation.  In  other  words,  through  a  fond- 
ness for  his  native  country  he  has  made  use  of  the  flowers  it  pro- 
duced, though,  in  order  to  exhibit  them  to  the  greater  advantage, 
he  has  endeavored  to  weave  his  garland  by  the  best  model  he 
could  find.""  This  statement  is  interesting  as  being  directly 
opposed  to  the  thought  in  Gay's  experiment.  Both  poets  mean 
to  hold  by  the  Latin  form  and  use  English  materials,  the  one  to 
show  that  the  two  are  incompatible,  the  other  to  show  that  they 
may  be  united.     Neither  Gay  nor  Shenstone  thought  of  discard- 

*  To  the  Right  Hotiorable  Lady  Anne  Coventiy. 

2  An  excellent  example  is  Nancy  of  the  Vale  which  takes  as  its  model, 
"  Ne}-ine  Galatea  !  thy  mo  niihi  dulcior  Hyblae  I 
Candidior  cygnis  !  hedera  formosior  alba,'' 
but  compares  Nancy  to    the   "wild-duck's   tender  young,"  to    the    water-lily  on 
Avon's  side,  her  eyes  to  the  azure  plume  of  the  halcyon,  etc. 


y 


1 02         TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

ing  the  Latin  form.  In  the  same  Essay  he  claims  that  in  his  use 
of  nature  he  has  drawn  only  on  personal  experience.  "If  he 
describes  a  rural  landskip,  or  unfolds  the  train  of  sentiments  it 
inspired,  he  fairly  drew  his  picture  from  the  spot  ;  and  felt  very 
sensibly  the  affection  he  communicates.  If  he  speaks  of  his 
humble  shed,  his  flocks  and  his  fleeces,  he  does  not  counterfeit 
the  scene  ;  who  having  (whether  through  choice  or  necessity,  is 
not  material)  retired  betimes  to  country  solitudes,  and  sought  his 
happiness  in  rural  employments,  has  a  right  to  consider  himself 
as  a  real  shepherd.  The  flocks,  the  meadows  and  the  grottos  are 
his  ow//,  and  the  embellishment  of  his  farm  his  sole  amusement. 
As  the  sentiments,  therefore,  were  inspired  by  na,ture,  and  that  in 
the  earlier  part  of  his  life,  he  hopes  thev  will  retain  a  natural 
appearance."  This  plea  for  first-hand  observation  is  important 
because  it  is  the  most  direct  of  the  early  critical  remarks  on  the 
poetical  treatment  of  nature. 

Sh*^nstone's  delight   in   nature   was   evidently   genuine.     He 
grants  that  men  may  be  dazzled  by  the  city  ; 

"  But  soon  the  pageant  fades  away  I 
'Tis  nature  only  bears  perpetual  sway,"' 

and  they  learn  again 

"the  simple,  the  sincere  delight  — 
Th'  habitual  scene  of  hill  and  dale, 
The  rural  herds,  the  vernal  gale, 
The  tangled  vetch's  purple  bloom, 
The  fragrance  of  the  bean's  perfume."^ 

He  speaks  with  scorn  of  those  "  bounded  souls"  who  enjoy  in 
nature  only  the  satisfaction  of  present  needs,  or  the  prospect  of 
future  gain,  and  who  can  not  on  "the  mere  landscape''  feast 
their  eyes,  and  apostrophizes  them  thus  : 

"  Athirst  ye  praise  the  limpid  stream,  'tis  true  : 
But  though,  the  pebbled  shores  among, 
It  mimic  no  unpleasing  song. 
The  limpid  fountain  murmurs  not  for  you. 

'  Rural  Elegance,  st.  20. 
^Rural  Elegance,  st.  19. 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY  103 

Unpleas'd  ye  see  the  thickets  bloom, 
Unpleas'd  the  spring  her  flowery  robe  resume  ; 
Unmov'd  the  mountain's  airy  pile, 
The  dappled  mead  without  a  smile."' 

But  to  the  true  lover  of  nature, 

"  Lo  !  not  an  hedge-row  hawthorn  blows. 

Or  humble  harebell  paints  the  plain. 
Or  valley  winds,  or  fountain  flows, 

Or  purple  heath  is  ting'd  in  vain  : 
For  such  the  rivers  dash  the  foaming  tides, 
The  mountain  swells,  the  dale  subsides  ; 
Ev'n  thriftless  furze  detains  their  wandering  sight, 
And  the  rough,  barren  rock  grows  pregnant  with  delight."' 

Shenstone  also  defends  the  doctrine  that  beauty  is  its  own  excuse 

for  being. 

"  Let  yon  admir'd  carnation  own. 

Not  all  was  meant  for  raiment,  or  for  food. 

Not  all  for  needful  use  alone."' 

Though  Shenstone's  work  is  often  undeniably  tame  and 
diffuse,  and  though  his  interests  were  bounded  by  his  farm,  he  is 
of  significance  because  of  his  thorough  enjoyment  of  quiet 
country  places,  his  indignant  rejection  of  the  utilitarian  view  of 
nature,  and  his  courageous  plea  for  truth  to  English  scenes. 

Green's  chief  poem.  The  Spleen,  was  published  in  1737,  after 
his  death.     The  subject  is  not  one  that  would  lead  to  much  use 
of  nature,  but  there  is  at  least  one  picture  that 
Matthew  Green     can  not  be  passed  over.''     In   his  sketch   of  the 
(1696-1737)  ideal  life  he  describes  his  ideal  home.     Its  sur- 

roundings are  most  charming  and  natural,  and 
the  whole  scene,  in  its  unity  and  reality  of  effect,  contrasts  well 
with  such  fanciful  combinations  as  the  garden  in  Tickell's  To  a 
Lady  Before  Marriage.     One  line  in  this  description, 

"Brown  fields  their  fallow  sabbaths  keep,"'* 

is  remarkable   in   that,  in  so   few  words,  it   not   only  presents   a 

'  Rural  Elegance,  st.  4.  5,  6,  8.  ^The  Spleen,  11.  646-687. 

°Rural  Elegance,  st.  16.  ■'The  Spleen,  1.  681. 


I04         TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

complete   picture,  but   also   awakens  the  feeling   that  would  be 
excited  by  the  scene  itself. 

Hamilton's  chief  use  of  nature  is  in  gentle  little  allegories  of 

life.      The   Rhone  and  the  Arar,   though   a   description    of    two 

rivers,   is    obviously   didactic    in   all   its   details. 

William  Spring,  summer,  and  winter  in  Ode  III.  are  but 

Hami   on  ,,  moral   shows,"  spread   out   for   man's   instruc- 

(1704-1754) 

tion.      Though  Hamilton  s  scenes  are  usually  01 

the  soft,  delicious,  vaguely  pleasing  sort,  and  his  diction  largely 

classical,  yet   now   and   then    in   his   rather  monotonous   spring 

poetry  we  find  a  fresh  line  or  phrase,  as  when  he  comments  on 

spring's  gift  of  beauty  to  "  each  nameless  field."     He   finds  joy 

in   the   prickly  briar   rose,   the  bright-colored   weed,   the   lion's 

yellow  tooth,  in  a  thousand  flowers  never   sowed  by  art.'     He  is 

filled  with  gratitude  as  he  looks  upon  the  smiling   face  of  nature 

and  the  radiant   glories  of  the  sky,  or   listens    to   the   music  of 

the  opening  year.'     In  Contemplation  he  exclaims, 

"  Mark  how  Nature's  hand  bestows 
Abundant  grace  on  all  that  grows, 
Tinges,  with  pencil  slow  unseen, 
The  grass  that  clothes  the  valley  green ; 
Or  spreads  the  tulip's  parted  streaks." 

More   distinctive,   however,   than   this   love   of    the    spring-time 

world,   is   Hamilton's   sense   of    communion   with    nature.     The 

lines, 

"As  on  this  flowering  turf  I  lie, 

My  soul  conversing  with  the  sky," 

and  this  address  to  the  passions  that  tyrannize  over  him, 

"  This  grove  annihilates  you  all. 
Oh  power  unseen,  yet  felt,  appear ! 
Sure  something  more  than  nature's  here." 

are  new  evidences  of  the  spirit  that  animated  Lady  Winchelsea, 
Dyer,  and  Parnell. 

Hamilton's   most   important   poem   is  The  Braes  of  Yarrow. 

'  The  Epistle  of  the  Thistle. 
^  Contemplation. 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY  1 05 

In  this  ballad  there  is  a  remarkable  blending  of  external  nature 
with  the  tragedy  of  love  and  death.  The  use  of  the  phrase,  "  the 
Braes  of  Yarrow,"  in  the  refrain  adds  a  curiously  subtle  touch  to 
the  pathos  of  the  poem.  Tradition  had  so  closely  associated 
the  sloping  hills  and  the  winding  stream  of  Yarrow  with  stories 
of  unhappy  love  in  far  off  days  that  the  name  was  in  itself 
enough  to  strike  the  keynote  of  pathos  in  Hamilton's  ballad. 
The  tone  or  color  that  human  experience  had  once  given  to  the 
scenery  was  carried  on  by  that  scenery  so  that  it  became  the 
appropriate  background  for  a  new  tale  of  grief.  The  one 
descriptive  stanza, 

"Sweet  smells  the  birk,  green  grows,  green  grows  the  grass, 
Yellow  on  Yarrow's  banks  the  gowan, 
Fair  hangs  the  apple  frae  the  rock, 
Sweet  the  wave  of  Yarrow  flowan  ; " 

and  a  single  line  in  the  maiden's  lament, 

"  I  sang,  my  voice  the  woods  returning," 
are  an  appropriate  setting  for  the  happy  love  of  the  bonny  bride 
and  her  comely  swain.  But  nature  is  also  compelled,  as  it  were, 
to  share  in  the  grief,  and  is  implicated  in  the  crime.  On  Yar- 
row's rueful  flood  floats  the  body  of  the  slain  knight  ;  her  dole- 
ful hills  echo  the  cries  of  sorrow.  And  the  desolate  bride  prays 
that  rain  and  dew  may  forever  forsake  the  fields  where  her  lover 
was  so  basely  slain. 

The  descriptive  element  in  Hamilton's  ballad  is  of  further 
interest  as  having  suggested  some  of  the  details  in  Wordsworth's 
Yarrozv  Unvisited. 

The  Deity,  a  poem  by  Samuel  Boyse,  and  much  praised  in  its 
own   day,'  is  of    importance   here    merely  because  of  its  Thom- 
sonian  imitations,  and  because  of  its  conception 
Samuel  Boyse         ^f  Qq^  Jj-,   nature.      This  conception   is,   in   the 
^  main,  the  typical  classical  one,  as  in  "  Omnipo- 

tence," where  the  central  idea  is, 

"What  hand,  Almighty  Architect,  but  thine 
Could  give  the  model  of  this  vast  design  ?  " 

'See  Hervey:  Meditations,  II,  239.     Fielding:  Tom  Jones,  VII,  ch.  i. 


I  o  6  TREA  TMENT  OF  NA  TUKE  IN  ENGLISH  FOE  TK 1 ' 


In  "  Providence,"  however,  the  modified  classical  conception  is 
apparent,  the  ever-working  power  of  God  being  dwelt  upon. 
All  nature  is  represented  as  being  each  moment  derived  from 
the  Creator. 

"The  sun  from  thy  superior  radiance  bright 
Eternal  sheds  his  delegated  light ; 
Thou  shedd'st  the  tepid  morning's  balmy  dews," 

are  characteristic  lines. 

That  Boyse  was  an  admirer  of  Thomson  we  know  from  the 
lines  addressed  to  him, 

"When  nature  first  inspired  thy  early  strain 
To  paint  the  beauties  of  the  flowery  plain  ; 
The  charming  page  I  read  with  soft  delight, 
And  every  lively  landskip  charmed  my  sight."' 

In  reading  Boyse  it  is  difficult  to  point  out  exact  echoes  from 
Thomson,  but  the  impression  remains  that  certain  passages, 
especially  in  "  Glory,"  are,  in  spite  of  their  couplets,  but  weak 
paraphrases  of  some  portions  of  Thomson's  work,  noticeably 
The  Hymn. 

Young's     literary    career    lasted    from    17 12    to     1762.      His 
Ocean  and  Sea  Pieces  and  the  only  book  of  the  Night  ThoitghtSy 

in  which  there  is  much  use  of  external  nature, 
Edward  Young  have  already  been  briefly  characterized.  They  need 
(i 681-1765)         little     further    discussion    here.      The    preface    to 

Ocean  is  more  worthy  of  note  than  the  poem  itself. 
In  this  preface  Young  deprecates  slavish  following  of  the  models 
of  antiquity,  declaring  that  "originals  only  have  true  life."  Due 
deference  to.  the  great  standards  of  antiquity  requires  that  "  the 
motives  and  fundamental  method  of  their  working  "  should  be 
imitated  rather  than  the  works  themselves.  He  then  defends  his 
choice  of  the  ocean  as  a  subject,  saying  that  it  is,  like  the  subjects 
chosen  by  the  ancients,  both  national  and  great,  and  adds  the 
significant  phrase,  "and  (what  is  strange)  hitherto  unsung." 
"The  crude  ore  of  romanticism"  which  Mr.  Gosse  finds  in 
Young,    has    to    do     with-    his     despairing      attitude     towards 

'  To  Thomson  on  Sophonisba. 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY  107 

life  and  death,  not  with  his  attitude  towards  external  nature. 
His  love  of  darkness,  which  seems  at  first  thought  akin  to  the 
sentimental  melancholy  of  the  romantic  poetry,  is  really  an 
unemotional  choice  of  a  fit  background  for  his  visions  of 
gloom.  His  strongest  lines  on  night  represent  not  its  beauty, 
nor  its  melancholy,  but  its  divinity,  or,  rather,  its  theological 
import.     The  following  are  typical  : 

"  Let  Indians 

the  sun  adore  : 
Darkness  has  more  divinity  for  me  ; 
It  strikes  thought  inward  ;   it  drives  back  the  soul 
To  settle  on  herself."' 

"By  night  an  atheist  half-believes  a  God."- 

At  night  the  sense  of  sacred  quiet  is  "  the  felt  presence  of  the 
deity. "^  In  occasional  passages  Young  has  more  or  less  definite 
previsions  of  scattered  ideas  in  later  poetry,''  but  these  are  inci- 
dental, and  of  merely  curious  interest.  Taken  in  the  bulk,  his 
work  is  so  slightly  and  coldly  concerned  with  the  outer  world  as 
to  offer  no  real  contribution  to  the  new  feeling  for  nature. 

'  Night  Thoughts,  V:i26-i30. 

=  Night  Thoughts,  V:i76. 

Night  Thoughts,  V:i7i. 

■♦  See  Night  VI,  where  there  is  an  interesting  statement  of  the  theory  after- 
wards expounded  in  Coleridge's  Ode  to  Dejection.     Compare  Young's, 
"  Objects  are  but  th'  occasion  ;  ours  th'  exploit ; 
Ours  is  the  cloth,  the  pencil,  and  the  paint, 
Which  nature's  admirable  picture  draws," 

Night  VI:  431. 
with  Coleridge's, 

"  O  Lady !  we  receive  but  what  we  give, 
And  in  our  life  alone  does  nature  live  ; 
Ours  is  her  wedding  garment ;  ours  her  shroud." 
In  the  same  passage  by  Young  is  the  line  concerning  the  power  of  our  senses 
that 

"  Half  create  the  wondrous  world  they  see," 

from  which  Wordsworth  took   a  line  in  Tintern   Abbey.     In    Satire   I,  1.    24  9 
there  are  some  lines  that  sound  absurdly  like  certain  stanzas  in  Peter  Bell  ; 
"  On  every  thorn  delightful  wisdom  grows  ; 
In  everv  rill  a  sweet  instruction  flows. 


lo8  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

'  Collins  possesses  many  of  the  qualities  and  the  defects  of  the 

romantic  spirit.     He  made  plans  almost  as  comprehensive  and 

visionary  as  those  of    Coleridge.     His  indolence, 

"William Collins  his  wavering,  irresolute  disposition,  his  morbid  sen- 

^w  (1721-1759)         sitiveness,  the  intensity  of  his  emotions,  his  love  of 

liberty,  his  passion  for  "  high  romance  and  Gothic 
diableries,"  together  with  his  new  sense  of  the  mystery  of  nature, 
set  him  quite  apart  from  the  men  who  were  his  friends,  from  Dr. 
Johnson,  Armstrong,  Aaron  Hill,  from  Garrick,  Ouin,  and  Foote, 
even  from  Thomson.  His  interests  were  not  those  of  his  day, 
for  his  admiration  turned  to  .^schylus,  Sophocles,  and  Euripides, 
rather  than  to  Virgil  and  Horace.'  In  English  poetry  he  gave 
his  allegiance  to  Spenser,  Milton,  and  Shakespeare,  rather  than  to 
Dryden  and  Pope.^  He  was  devoted  to  music.  He  was  also 
deeply  interested  in  the  remote  history  of  his  own  country,  and 
in  the  legendary  lore  and  superstitions  of  any  land.  Dr.  John- 
son says  of  him  :  "  He  loved  fairies,  genii,  giants,  and  monsters  ; 
he  delighted  to  rove  through  the  meanders  of  enchantment,  to 
gaze  on  the  magnificence  of  golden  palaces,  to  repose  by  the 
waterfalls  of  Elysian  gardens." 

Collins  was  a  town-bred  poet  and  could  have  known  little  of 
the  country  at  firsthand.  We  might  therefore  expect  all  his 
imagery  to  be  of  the  conventional  sort  in  the  Eclogues  written  in 

But  some,  untaught,  o'erhear  the  whispering  rill, 
In  spite  of  sacred  leisure,  blockheads  still." 
The  lines 

"  In  distant  wilds,  by  human  eyes  unseen, 
She  rears  her  flowers,  and  spreads  her  velvet  green  ; 
Pure  gurgling  rills  the  lonely  desert  trace 
And  waste  their  music  on  the  savage  race," 

Satire  V:229. 
come  between  the  similar  passages  by  Gay  and  Gray. 

Cf.  also  the  simile  of  the   eagle  and   the   serpent  (Vanquished  Love,  Bk. 
II  :  226),  with  Shelley's  Revolt  of  Islam,  I :  st.  8-10. 

'  Ode  to  Fear,  Ode  to  Simplicity,  An  Epistle  to  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer,  Ode 
to  Pity. 

^  Ode  to  Fear,  On  the  Poetical  Character,  Popular  Superstitions,  st.  11, 
An  Epistle  to  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer. 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY  109 

his  early  school  days.  But  such  is  not  the  case.  In  the  later 
poems  the  use  of  nature,  slight  as  it  is,  is  marked  by  unusual 
originality  and  imaginative  power.  There  is  everywhere  present 
a  sense  of  delight  in  the  wilder,  freer,  in  the  more  remote  and 
mysterious  aspects  of  nature.     He  makes  Fear  sit 

"  in  some  hollow'd  seat 
'Gainst  which  the  big  waves  beat," 
and  listen  to 

"  drowning  seamen's  cries  in  tempest  brought." 
His  gifted  wizard  seers 

"  view  the  hirid  signs  that  cross  the  sky 
Where  in  the  west  the  brooding  tempests  lie, 
And  hear  their  first,  faint,  rustling  pennons  sweep." 

Note  also  the  description  of  the  "  wide,  wild  storm,"  in  the  Ode 
to  Liberty,  and  especially  the  skillful  mingling  of  landscape 
details  and  superstitious  terrors  in  the  Ode  on  Popular  Supersti- 
tions. The  "  bewitch'dj  low,  marshy,  willow  brake,"  "  the  spot 
where  hums  the  sedgy  reed,"  the  '*  dim  hill  that  seems  up-rising 
near,"  "  Uist^'s  dark  forest,"  "  the  watery  strath  or  quaggy  moss," 
"  the  damp,  dark  fen,"  are  slight  touches,  but  they  serve  perfectly 
to  suggest  the  fit  home  of  the  kelpie,  the  will-o'-the-wisp,  the 
mischievous  fairy  folk,  and  the  phantom  train  of  gliding  ghosts. 
But  Collins's  most  appreciative  use  of  nature  is  in  the  Ode  to 
Evening.  That  poem  was  doubtless  the  result  of  personal  expe- 
rience, for  it  notes  facts,  such  as  the  rising  of  the  beetle  in  the 
path    at   twilight,  that    were  not    yet   stock    poetical    property. 

The  lines 

"  Thy  dewy  fingers  draw 
The  gradual  dusky  veil," 

could  hardly  have  been  written  by  one  unfamiliar  with  the  slow 
disappearance  of  a  landscape  as  night  comes  on.  More  remarkr 
able  are  the  simplicity  and  directness  of  touch  by  which  the  few 
details  are  made  to  stand  for  complete  pictures.  The  cloudy 
sunset,  the  silence  of  evening,  the  calm  lake  amid  the  upland  fal- 
lows, the  fading  view,  the  windy  day  in  autumn,  are  all  excellent 
examples  of  the  stimulative  as  opposed  to  the  delineative  descrip- 


1 1  o         TREA  TMEN7 '  OF  NA  TURK  IN  ENGLISH  POE  TR  Y 

tion.  But  the  final  impression  made  on  the  mind  is  powerful 
mainly  because  in  some  way  that  escapes  analysis  the  very  mood 
and  spirit  of  evening,  its  calm,  its  tender  melancholy,  breathe 
through  the  unpretending  lines.  We  seldom  find  in  the  eigh- 
teenth century,  personifications  so  high  and  spiritual,  description 
so  essentially  poetical,  or  workmanship  so  perfect  in  its  simplicity. 
.  Dr.  Akenside's  The  Pleasures  of  the  Itnagination,  though  not 
published  till  1744,  was  begun  in  1738  when  the    author  was  but 

seventeen,  and  completed  when  he  was  twenty-one. 
Dr    ^kciisidc 

'  ,         In  1 71;  7    it    was    remodeled   and     many  additions 

(1721-1770)  '^'  ■' 

were  made.  In  its  first  form  the  poem  was  essentially 
a  product  of  the  author's  precocious,  brilliant  youth.  Yet  it  has 
little  of  the  fire  and  passion  of  youth.  It  is  a  smooth,  correct, 
rather  frigid  exposition  of  certain  philosophical  principles.  The 
whole  poem  seems  like  an  illustration  of  Akenside's  belief  that 
I  poetry  is  true  eloquence  in  metre.'  It  is  not  marked  by  any 
t^  especially  rich  or  faithful  portrayal  of  nature,  nor  is  there  much 
description.  In  point  of  fact,  such  descriptions  as  occur  are 
often  marred  by  eighteenth  century  periphrases  such  as  calling 
honey  "ambrosial  spoils;"  the  sun,  "the  radiant  ruler  of  the 
year;"  flowers,  "the  purple  honors  of  the  spring;"  water,  "a 
delicious  draught  of  cool  refreshment;"  and  frogs,  "  the  grave^ 
unwieldly  inmates  of  the  neighboring  pond."  There  is  also  fre- 
quent use  of  stock  words  and  of  worn-out  similitudes.  But  in 
spite  of  its  coldness,  this  poem  is  an  important  contribution  to 
the  development  of  the  poetry  of  nature  because  of  its  new  con- 
ception of  the  relation  between  man  and  nature. 

When  the  poet  endeavors  to  explore  the  "secret  paths  of  early 
genius,"  he  imagines  inspiration  as  coming  to  the  lonely  youth 
from  some  "  wild  river's  brink  at  eve,"  or  from  "  solemn 
groves  at  noon,"  -  and  there  is  one  passage  that  lays  a  Words- 
worthian  emphasis  on  the  effect  of  nature  on  the  soul  of  a   child. 

"  O  ye  Northumbrian  shades,  which  overlook 
The  rocky  pavement  and  the  mossy  falls 
Of  solitary  Wensbeck's  limpid  stream; 

'  Mason:  Memoirs  of  Gray,  p.  261. 
•^Pleasures  of  Imagination,  Bk.  IV:  26   (1770). 


i 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY  m 

How  gladly  I  recall  your  well-known  seats 
Beloved  of  old,  and  that  delightful  time 
When,  all  alone,  for  many  a  summer's  day, 
I  wandered  through  your  calm  recesses,  led 
In  silence  by  some  powerful  hand  unseen. 
Nor  will  I  e'er  forget  you;  nor  shall  e'er 
The  graver  tasks  of  manhood,  or  the  advice 
Of  vulgar  wisdom,  move  me  to  disclaim 
Those  studies  which  possessed  me  in  the  dawn 
Of  life,  and  fix'd  the  color  of  my  mind 
For  every  future  year."  ' 

But  the  great  scene  of  nature  does  not  appear  the  same  to  all. 
It  is  only  to  the  finer  spirits  that  the  true  meaning  of  the  outer 
world  is  revealed.''  These  nobler  souls  are  all  "  naked  and  alive"^ 
to  the  influences  of  nature  to  which  they  respond  as  Memnon's 
image  to  the  touch  of  the  morning.*  Form,  color,  sound,  motion, 
detain  the  enlivened  sense,  and  soon  the  soul  perceives  the  deep  . 
concord  between  these  attributes  of  matter  and  the  mind  of  man.^ 
The  passions  are  lulled  to  a  divine  repose.  The  intellect  itself 
suspends  its  graver  cares.     Love  and  joy  alone  possess   the    soul 

.    "Whom  nature's  aspect,  nature's  simple  garb. 
Can  thus  command."  ^ 

For  the  happy  man  whom  neither  sordid  wealth    nor   the    gaudy 
spoils  of  honor  can  seduce  to  leave  the  sweets  of  nature, 

"  Each  passing  hour  sheds  tribute  from  her  wings: 
And  still  new  beauties  meet  his  lonely  walk, 

And  loves  unfelt  attract  him 

Nor  thence  partakes 

Fresh  pleasure  only;  for  the  attentive  mind, 
By  this  harmonious  action  on  her  powers, 

'  Pleasures  of  Imag.,  Bk.  IV:  38-51  {1770);  cf.  Hymn  to  the  Naiads,  243- 
249;  cf.  Wordsworth:  Prelude,  Bk,  1:402,  and  many  other  passages  concerning 
the  silent  power  of  nature  over  him  in  his  youth. 

'^  Pleasures  of  Imag.,  Bk.  1: 136-140  (1757). 

3  Pleasures  of  Imag.,  Bk.  I:  120  (1744). 

*  Pleasures  of  Imag.,  Bk.  1: 150  (1757). 

5  Pleasures  of  Imag.,  Bk.  1: 153-160  (1757). 

*  Pleasures  of  Imag.,  Bk.  I:  1 68-175  Ol 757);  cf-  Wordsworth:  Tintern  Abbey 
II.  41-49.  » 


eJ  ^^>^ 


# 


'\ 


fcf^A 


1 1  2         TKEA  TMENT  OF  NA  TURK  IN  ENGLISH  FOE  TR  V 

Becomes  herself  harmonious;  wont  so  oft 
In  outward  things  to  meditate  the  charm 
Of  sacred  order,  soon  she  seeks  at  home 
To  find  a  kindred  order,  to  exert 
Within  herself  this  elegance  of  love."  ' 

If  men  feel   themselves  cramped   by  custom,   by  sordid   policies 

let  them  appeal 

"  to  Nature,  to  the  wmds 
And  rolling  waves,  the  sun's  unwearied  course, 
The  elements  and  seasons." 

All  these  call  us  to  beneficent' activity. 

"  Thus  the  men 
Whom  Nature's  works  can  charm,  with  God  himself 
Hold  converse;  grow  familiar,  day  by  day. 
With  his  conceptions,  act  upon  his  plan. 
And  form  to  his  the  relish  of  their  souls."  ^ 

But  even  the  susceptible  soul  must  come  to  nature  in  an  open, 
receptive  mood.  The  sacred  rights  of  the  Naiads  are  sought  in 
vain  by  the  "eyes  of  care."  No  vision  is  granted  to  the  preoccu- 
pied guest. ^  There  is  also  an  independent  life  in  nature,  or  at 
least  a  spirit  that  is  no  reflection  of  man's  moods,  but  with  qual- 
ities of  its  own  whereby  man  is  influenced. 

"Throned  in  the  sun's  descending  car. 
What  power  unseen  diffuseth  far 

This  tenderness  of  mind  ? 
What  Genius  smiles  on  yonder  flood  ? 
What  God,  in  whispers  from  the  wood, 
Bids  every  thought  be  kind?  "'• 

"Who  can  tell, 
Even  on  the  surface  of  this  rolling  earth, 

'  Pleasures  of  Imag.,  Bk.  111:591-605  (1744).  This  "sacred  order"  of  the 
universe  is  one  of  the  points  on  which  Wordsworth  dwells,  and  he  refers  frequently 
to  the  tranquilizing,  steadying  effect  which  the  contemplation  of  this  order  and 
harmony  will  have  on  the  mind  of  man.  See  Excursion,  Bk.  IV:  1198-12x9; 
1254-1265. 

*> Pleasures  of  Imag.,Bk.  111:615-633  (1744). 

3  Odes,  Book  I,  Ode   14,   stanzas    4-6;    cf.    Wordsworth's    statement   that 
nature  reveals  herself  to  the  heart  that  "  watches  and  receives." 
Odes:  Bk.  I,  Ode  5,  st.  8. 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY  113 

How  many  make  abode  ?     The  fields,  the  groves, 
The  winding  rivers  and  the  azure  main, 
Are  rendered  solemn  by  their  frequent  feet. 
Their  rites  sublime."' 

The  power  of  nature  over  man  is  constant  and  varied.  She 
is  endowed  with  such  enchantment,  made  up  of  forms  so  exqui- 
sitely fair,  breathed  through  with  such  ethereal  sweetness,  that 
she  can  at  wi.ll  "raise  or  depress  the  impassioned  soul."^  Her 
dark  woods  rouse  him  to  solemn  awe.  Her  gay  landscapes 
with  blue  skies  and  silver  clouds  give  an  impression  of  winning 
mirth.  There  is  in  the  rising  sun  something  kindred  to  man's 
spirit.  At  evening  the  "breath  divine  of  nameless  joy,"  that 
steals  through  the  heart,  is  but  another  message  from  the  spirit  of 
love  that  rules  the  world.  All  the  forms  of  the  external  world 
are  but  visible  expressions  of  such  thoughts  of  God  as  the  mind 
of  man  is  fitted  to  receive.  The  soundness  of  this  interpretation 
of  nature  is  not  here  in  question.  We  are  merely  concerned  with 
the  fact  that  in  the  middle  of  the  century  we  find  a  statement  of 
poetical  creed  which,  so  far  as  the  thought  is  concerned,  might 
come  from  The  Excursion  or  The  Prelude.  Akenside  is  one  of  the 
first  of  the  poets  of  the  age  to  insist  on  the  b^uty  of  all 
nature,  3  and  to  show  an  abiding  sense  of  the  spiritual  elements 
that  give  significance  to  the  external  forms  of  nature.  He  was 
also  the  first  one  to  emphasize  the  Platonic  doctrine  of  the  iden- 
tity of  truth  and  beauty,  ^' 

For  Truth  and  Good  are  one  ; 
And  Beauty  dwells  in  them,  and  they  in  her."  '' 

A  minor  poet,  John  Gilbert  Cooper,  must  be  mentioned 
because  of  one  poem.  The  Power  of  Harmony  (1745).     In  execu- 

'  Pleasures  of  Imag.,  Bk.  1:670-675  (1757). 
Pleasures  of  Imag.,  Bk.  111:484  (1757). 

3  Pleasures  of  Imag.,  Bk.,  I:  576-589  (1757). 

4  Pleasures  of  Imag.,  Bk.,  1:432-437  (1757). 

Akenside's  presentation  of  this  doctrine  has  led  Gosse  to  call  him  a  "  sort 
of  frozen  Keats,"  but  Akenside's  pleasure  in  nature  was  philosophical  rather 
than  sensuous.  His  scientific  delight  in  the  analyzed  rainbow  (Pleasures  of 
Imag.,  2:  103-120  [1744])  would  have  filled  Keats  with  horror. 


114  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

tion  it  is  heavy  and  involved.  It  is  a  clumsy  attempt  to 
work  out  a  theory  of  beauty.     The    preface   is    more  interesting 

than  the  poem.  In  this  preface  he  says:  "It  is 
John  Gilbert  j.j^g  design  of  the  poem  to  show  that  constant  atten- 
Cooper  (1723- ?)  ,.       ,        ,^.  ,^        ,,  .f,.  ,  -M 

tion  to  what  is  perfect  and  beautiful  in  nature  will, 

by  degrees,  harmonize  the  soul  to  a  responsive  regularity  and 
sympathetic  order."  In  the  poem  he  ascribes  to  "  each  nat- 
ural scene  a  moral  power,"  and  traces  even  the  song  of  birds  and 
the  frisking  of  cattle  to  the  effect 

"  Of  beauty  beaming  its  benignant  warmth 
Through  all  the  brute  creation." 

He  believes  also  that  all  parts  of  nature  are  beautiful.     Shagged 

rocks,    barren    heaths,  precipices,  sable    woods,  headlong  rivers, 

all  are  examples  of  the  principle  of  harmony  and  so  of  beauty. 

Somewhat   earlier  in   the  period  is  another  minor  poet  who 

would  be  today  practically  unknown  had  not   Southey  preserved 

his  work.     This  is  Joseph  Relph,  the  son  of  a  Cum- 

,  ,     berland   statesman.     He   was  born    in   Shergham, 

(1712-1743)  ^ 

where  he  spent  most  of  his  unhappy  life.  His 
Cumhrian  Pastorals  were,  Southey  says,  transcripts  from  real  life. 
They  are  among  the  very  earliest  attempts  to  represent  the  Cum- 
berland dialect,  and  they  are  a  close  record  of  Cumberland  super- 
stitions and  games  and'customs.  The  poems  show  an  original 
study  of  the  scenery  about  Shergham,  as  in  the  following  lines: 

"  A  finer  hay-day  was  never  seen, 
The  greenish  sops  already  luik  less  green 

And  see  how  finely  striped  the  fields  appear, 
Striped  like  the  gown  'at  I  on  Sundays  wear. 
White  show  the  rye,  the  big  of  blaker  hue  ; 
The  bluimen  pezz  greenment  wi'  reed  and  blue." 

Blair's  one  important  poem  is  The  Grave  (1741).  Its  aim  is 
a  moral  one,  and  it  makes  but  slight  use  of  the  outer  world. 
Robert  Blair  There  is,  however,  one  interesting  realistic  descrip- 
(1699-1746)         tion  of  a  row  of  ragged  elms 

"  Long  lash'd  by  the  rude  winds.     Some  rift  half  down 


Thompson 

(i7i2?-i76o?) 


NATURE  IN  FOE  TRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY  115 

Their  branchless  trunks  ;  others  so  thin  atop, 

That  scarce  two  crows  could  lodge  in  the  same  tree." 

These  elms,  the  cheerless  unsocial  yew,  the  wan  moon,  the 
howling  wind,  the  screech  owl,  the  inoss-grown  stones  skirted 
with  nettles,  are  descriptive  details  that  serve  very  well  to  add 
the  desired  "  supernumerary  horror  "  to  the  scene.  The  Grave 
is  one  of  the  earliest  poems  to  give  to  melancholy  reflections  on 
man's  mortality  the  nature  setting  that  was  later  recognized  as 
the  conventionally  appropriate  one. 

William  Thompson  is  best  known  by  \\'\'&  £pit/ia/amium  [11 7^6) , 

Sickness  {i-j/^G),  and    especially   his   Hymn   to   J/aj',  written  "  not 

long  after."     His  poems   were  published  in  a  vol- 

William  ^jjj^g  jj-j    ly^y.      His  J///*wc?;V/ is  a  stilted,  artificial 

pastoral  filled,  in  with  homely  details.     Colin  begs 

politely  and  on  his  knees  that  Lucy  will  smile  upon 
him  ; 

"  So  may  thy  cows  forever  crown 
With  floods  of  milk  thy  brimming  pail  ; 
So  may  thy  cheeze  all  cheeze  surpass, 
So  may  thy  butter  never  fail." 

Lucy,  of  course,  sighed  and  blushed  a  sweet  consent.  This  pas- 
toral, together  with  his   admiration  of  Pope's  Alexis,  who  was  so 

"  Gently  rural  !  without  coarseness  plain  ; 
How  simple  in  his  elegance  of  grief  1 
A  shepherd  but  no  clown," 

would  hardly  lead  one  to  suspect  much  satisfactory  study  of 
nature  in  Thompson's  poetry.  But  there  is  apparent  in  the 
Hymn  and  even  in  Sickness,  through  all  the  florid,  exuberant  dic- 
tion and  obscure  forms  of  expression,  a  genuine  delight  in  the 
beauty  and  freshness  of  the  outer  world.  He  was  a  great  admirer 
of  Thomson,  who  as 

"  Nature's  bard  the  seasons  on  his  page 
Stole  from  the  year's  rich  hand,""' 

and  his  poems  show  Thomson's  influence  in  expression  and  gen- 
eral   conception.      Such   phrases   as    the   "boundless    majesty    of 

'  Sickness,   5:5. 


1 1 6  TREA  TMENT  OF  NA  TUKE  IN  ENGLISH  FOE  TR  } ' 

day,"  the  "sun's  refulgent  throne,"  the  "vernant  showery  bow 
profusive,"  clouds  of  "ten  thousand  inconsistent  shapes,"  are  sug- 
gestive.    Here  is  a  typical  Thomsonian  passage: 

"What  boundless  tides  of  splendor  o'er  the  skies, 
O'er  flowing  brightness!  stream  their  golden  rays! 
Heaven's  azure  kindles  with  the  varying  dyes."  ' 

Or  take  this  one: 

"  And  what  a  prospect  round 
Swells  greenly  grateful  on  the  cherish'd  eye; 
A  universal  blush,  a  waste  of  sweets!"  ^ 

There  are  many  other  suggestions  of  Thomson  in  these  "  tender 

and  florid"  descriptions  of  "the  beauties,  the  pleasures,  and  the 

loves  "  of  spring.  William  Thompson  is  of  importance  in  this  study 

merely  because  he  is  one  more  poet  who  loved  nature,  who  wrote  of 

her  with  enthusiasm,  and  who  imitated  Thomson.   His  chief  use  of 

nature  is  in  similitudes  and  in  frequent  enthusiastic  summaries  of 

the  charms  of  nature. 

Moses  Mendez  published  in  1751  four  j)oems  named  in    imi- 

tation]of  ThoviA^on,  Spri/ig,  Summer,  Autumn,  and  Winter.     There 

is  some  first-hand  observation  in  such  lines  as, 
Moses  Mendez 

d.  1758 

"  The  pool-spring  gnat  on  sounding  wings  doth  pass 
And  on  the  ramping  steed  doth  suck  his  till," 
or: 

"The  patient  cow  doth,  to  eschew  the  heat, 
Her  body  steep  within  the  neighboring  rill  ; " 

but  more  often  the  observations  are  of  the  conventional  imitative 
sort,  as  in  this  couplet: 

"  On  every  hill  the  purple-blushing  vine 
Beneath  her  leaves  her  racy  fruit  doth  hide," 

which  is  hardly  true  of  an  English  scene.  On  the  whole  the 
passages  in  which  Mendez  treats  of  nature,  while  rather  fanciful 
and  decorative,  are  not  indicative  of  any  real  knowledge  of 
nature. 

'  Hymn  to  May,  st.  20. 
^  Sickness,  5:17. 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE   EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY    n? 

Jago's   most   important    poems    are    Edge   Hill  (1767),    The 

Swallotv    (1748),     The   Blackbirds   (1752)    and    The  Goldfinches. 

The  last  two  are  love  stories  of  the  birds  named, 

^  f      each   love  story  beina:  disastrously  ended  by  the 
{1715-1781)  J  ^  J 

cruelty  of  man  in  taking  innocent  life.  The  Swal- 
low is  an  allegory  of  life  and  death.  Edge  Hill  is  notable  for 
its  pleasure  in  wide  views  which  are  minutely  traced,  and,  alas, 
made  "  generally  interesting  by  reflections,  historical,  philosoph- 
ical, and  moral."  The  new  note  is  struck  by  the  exceptional  fre- 
quency and  evident  appreciation  with  which  the  poet  notes  the 
mountains  in  the  different  views.     Of  "Dafset's  ridgy  mountain," 

he  says: 

"  Like  the  tempest-driven  wave, 

Irregularly  great,  his  bare  tops  brave 
The  winds." 
To  the  west 

"Braids  lifts  his  scarry  sides, 
And  Ilmington,  and  Campden's  hoary  hills, 
Impress  new  grandeur  on  the  spreading  scene, 

While  distant,  but  distinct,  his  Alpine  ridge 
Malvern  erects  o'er  Esham's  vale  sublime." 

In  1750  appeared  Francis   Coventry's  Pens-hurst,  a  poem   in 

rhymed  octosyllabics,  notable  chiefly  for  its  many  imitations  of 

Milton.     Another  poem  written   by   Coventry  to 

, ,  ^,        the    Honorable  Wilmot  Vaughan  indicates    that 

(d.  1759?)  » 

the   two   friends  had   found    some    pleasure     in 
mountain  climbing: 

"Dost  thou  explore  Sabrina's  fountful  source, 

Where  huge  Plinlimmon's  hoary  height  ascends: 
Then  downwards  mark  her  vagrant  course 

'Till  mixed  with  clouds  the  landscape  ends  ? 
Dost  thou  revere  the  hallowed  soil 

Where  Druids  old  sepulchred  lie  ? 
Or  up  cold  Snowden's  craggy  summits  toil 

And  muse  on  ancient  savage  liberty  ? 
Ill  suit  such  walks  with  bleak  autumnal  air." 

In  the  World,  April   12,  1753,   Coventry  also  had   an   article 


I  1 8  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

entitled  "  Strictures  on  the  absurd  Novelties  introduced  in  Gar- 
dening," which  was  a  plea  for  simplicity  and  naturalness. 

William  Mason,  who  is  a  poet  known  chiefly  because   he   had 
insight  enough  to  appreciate  Gray,  may,  in  this  study,  be  lightly 

passed    over.     His    dranias    Elfrida    (1752),  and 

William  Mason     r-         j.          ,          \                  •<...  ..u            j   1  r 

L^zra^/a^z/i- (17S1)  were  written  on  the   model  of 
(1725  1797)                             \    '  J  / 

the  ancient  Greek  tragedy.     They  have  little  to 

do  with  external  nature,  although  in  order  to  introduce  "  touches 

of  pastoral  description"  such  as  had  especially  delighted  him  in 

Conius  and  As  You  Like  It  he  had    laid    the   scene   of   Elfrida   in 

"  an    old    romantic     forest."       Caractacus   is    a    Druid    play    the 

action  of  which  takes  place  on  or  near  "majestic   Snowden,"  but 

there  is  only  a  single  passage  in  which  the   wild  scenery  is   made 

effective  in  the  poem,  and  that  is  the  ode  beginning, 

"  Mona  on  Snowden  calls: 
Hear,  thou  King  of  Mountains,  hear." 

Later  on  the  ode  allies  itself  with  romantic  work  by  its  use  of 
the  supernatural  but  it  makes  slight  use  of  nature.  Mason's  chief 
significance  in  this  study  is  in  what  he  had  to  say  about  gardens. 
In  To  a  Water  Nymph  (1747),  there  is  a  protest  against  the  elab- 
orate Gothic  fountains  then  fashionable,  and  also  against  shell 
work  and  mineral  grottos.  His  long  work  The  English  Garden 
will  be  spoken  of  later. 

The  greatest  name  in   this   period    is   that    of  Thomas   Gray. 
His  prose  will  be  taken  up  under  Travels.     His  poetry  falls  into 
Thomas  Gray      three   periods.'    The  first   or  classical   period,  in 
(1716-1771).         spite  of  an  occasional  good  line,  such  as 
"  The  untau^^ht  harmony  of  Spring," 

is  entirely  conventional  in  its  use  of  nature,  the  prevailing  tone 
being  exemplified  in  such  phrases  as  "the  attic  warbler,"  "the 
purple  year,"  and  "  Venus'  train."  But  in  the  two  poems  of  1742, 
we  find  close  and  appreciative  study  of  the  country  about  Wind- 
sor and  Stoke  Pogis.  In  the  ode  on  Eton  College  the  wistful 
/  pleasure  with  which  the  poet  recalls  his  childhood  is  intensified 
by  his  memory  of  the  beloved  hills  and  fields,  the  silver-winding 

'  Phelps  :  The  Beginnings  of  the  English  Romantic  Movement. 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY  i  19 

Stream,  and  the  pleasant  paths  inseparably  associated  with  the  care- 
free days  of  his  youth.  In  the  Elegy  the  use  of  nature  is  highly 
artistic.  The  purpose  of  the  poem  is  a  human  one — the  sympa- 
thetic representation  of  the  honorable  labor,  the  innocent  joys, 
the  tender  and  wholesome  affections  of  the  poor,  the  general 
tone  being  that  of  a  pensive  melancholy  induced  by  the  thought 
of  death.  Nature  is  used  in  due  subordination  to  the  theme, 
and  with  exquisite  fitness.  Every  detail  of  the  opening  twilight 
picture  contributes  its  own  touch  to  prepare  the  mind  for  the 
succeeding  reflections  on  death.  The  sounds,  the  tinkling  of  the 
distant  folds,  the  droning  of  the  beetle,  the  complaining  of  the 
owl,  are  such  as  emphasize  silence,  which  is  itself  an  accompani- 
ment and  -an  emblem  of  death.  The  ivy-mantled  tower,  the 
rugged  elms,  the  black  yews,  have  been  imme.morially  associated 
with  death.  There  is  also  a  subtle  analogy  in  the  withdrawal 
of  light,  the  life  of  nature.  So,  too,  each  detail  in  the  first 
picture  of  morning,  has  its  human  purpose.  The  stirring  sounds 
are  interesting  and  of  pathetic  import  because  they  once  waked 
an  answering  throb  of  life  in  the  hearts  of  men  who  now  hear 
them  no  more.  The  enumeration  of  homely  country  tasks  has 
its  chief  value  in  the  suggested  delight  of  the  workman  in  his 
occupation  and  the  resultant  emphasis  by  contrast  on  the  pathos 
of  death. 

In  the  last  six  stanzas  of  the  poem  we  find  the  true  romantic 
conception  of  the  relation  between  man  and  nature.  The  poet 
is  represented  as  a  shy,  solitary  being  in  communion  with  nature, 
and  drawing  his  inspiration  from  her.  In  the  morning  he  hur- 
ries to  some  hillside  that  he  may  watch  the  sunrise  ;  at  noon  he 
stretches  himself  at  full  length  under  some  beech-tree  by  the 
side  of  a  brook,  and  pores  over  the  waters  as  they  babble  by  ;  or 
he  wanders  through  the  woods,  murmuring  to  himself  his  way- 
ward fancies.  This  poet  is  certainly  far  enough  removed  from 
the  typical  town-bred  poet  of  the  classical  regime.  He  is  rather 
of  the  same  race  as  Warton's  Enthusiast,  and  he  at  least  suggests 
Wordsworth's  Poet  who  murmurs  by  the  running  brooks  a  music 
sweeter  than  their  own.'     In  these  stanzas  nature  is  not  only  the 

'Wordsworth  :  A  Poet's  Epitaph,  st.  10. 


y 


I  20  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

appropriate  dramatic  background.  It  is  taken  up  into  the  mental 
action  and  becomes  at  least  in  part  the  occasion  of  the  poet's 
moods,  and  it  is  entirely  through  the  relation  of  the  poet  to 
nature  that  these  moods  are  revealed  to  the  reader. 

Nature  is  thus  throughout  the  poem  made  strictly  subservient 
to^_the__Jiiuiiai3_  theme,    but    ttie'Tntrinsic    beauty   of    the    brleT 
descriptions,  quite   apart  from  the   context,   caiinot'pass'~unTro^ 
ticed.     Separate   lines  have   the   power  of  suggesting  whole  pic- 
tures.    For  example  in 

"  How  bowed  the  woods  beneath  their  sturdy  stroke," 
the  ringing  blow  of  the  ax,  the  crash  of  the  falling  tree,  smite  upon 
the  ear.       „q£^  ^j^  ^^^  harvest  to  their  sickle  yield" 
is  full   of  color  and   life.     There   is   a  wide,  peaceful  landscape 
ertect  in      ,,  -pj^^  lowing  herds  wind  slowly  o'er  the  lea." 

And  the  line 

"  The  swallow  twittering  from  its  straw-built  shed  " 

brings  up  all  the  details  of  a  humble  farmyard.  These  and 
other  descriptions  in  the  Elegy  are  distinctively  English  inspirit 
and  detail.  They  are  the  result  of  first-hand  knowledge,  they 
are  drawn  with  a  firm  hand,  and  they  are  used  with  an  instinctive 
recognition  of  artistic  fitness.  / 

A  new  range  of  sympathies,  however,  appears  in  the  poems 
of  Gray's  third  or  purely  romantic  period.  Here  he  writes  of 
northern  mythologies  and  superstitions  or  gives  transcripts  of 
Norse  tales,  and  the  pictures  interwoven  with  the  human  ele- 
ments are  of  a  wild  and  savage  character.  In  The  Bard  moun- 
tain,  precipice,  and  torrent  form  a  setting  without  which  the 
fiery  denunciation  of  the  poet  would  lose  half  its  force.  The 
storm  and  the  whirlwind  sweep  through  these  poems.  Rough 
and  frowning  steeps,  foaming  floods,  warring  winds,  the  heights 
of  Snowdon  and  huge  Plinlimmon,  darkness,  cold,  make  up  the 
terrible  but  dramatically  appropriate  environment  for  the  fierce, 
imprecatory  elegy  which  the  bard  utters  over  his  lost  compan- 
ions, for  the  fatal  and  dreadful  song  of  the  gigantic  sisters  weav- 
ing  "the  loom  of  Hell." 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY  121 

In  one  or  two  other  poems  there  is   effective   use  of  nature. 

The   joy  of  a   convalescent   able    at    last    to   go   out   of    doors 

was    not   an  uncommon   subject  through  this  period,  but  there 

is    no    better    expression  of  it  than    in    A    Fragment   by    Gray. 

The  feeling,  and  in  passages,  the  phraseology,  are  almost  Words- 

worthian. 

"  The  meanest  flowret  of  the  vale, 

The  simplest  note  that  swells  the  gale, 

The  common  sun,  the  air,  the  skies, 

To  him  are  opening  Paradise," 

is  an  illustrative  stanza.     There  are  also  some  exquisite  lines  on 

birds,  as, 

"  But  chief,  the  Sky-lark  warbles  high 
His  trembling  thrilling  ecstacy  ; 
And,  lessening  from  the  dazzled  sight. 
Melts  into  air  and  liquid  light,"' 
and, 

"  There  pipes  the  wood-lark,  and  the  song-thrush  there 

Scatters  his  loose  notes  in  the  waste  of  air."^ 
Though  undated  these  lines  in  their  spirit  and  workmanship  ally 
themselves  at  once  with  the  period  of  the  Elegy  rather  than  with 
the  later  work.  They  also  more  accurately  represent  Gray's 
dominant  attitude  towards  nature,  his  knowledge  of  sweet, 
homelv  things,  and  the  delicate  perfection  of  his  literary  touch. 
The  Rev.  R.  Potter's  chief  poem  is  A  Farewell  Hyvin  to  the 
Country,  Attempted  in  the  Manner  of  Spenser's  Epithalaniion  (i  749). 

The  poem  shows  much  sympathetic  knowledge  of 
R.  Potter  some  parts  of  nature,  especially  of  birds  and  trees- 

(1721-1804)         He  speaks  of  the  quail   that  "  runnes  piping  o'er 

the  land,"  of  the  "  mavis-haunted  grove,"  and  of 
the  nightingale  that  delights  "  the  stillness  of  the  night."  He 
declares  that  his  entire  orchard,  plums,  pears,  grapes,  permains, 
and  all,  is  at  the  service  of  these,  his  "  fellow-poets."     At  evening 

"  The  slum'bring  trees  seem  their  tall  tops  to  bow 
Rocking  the  careless  birds  that  on  them  nest 
To  gentle,  gentle  rest." 

'  On  the  Pleasure  arising  from  Vicissitude. 
'  Couplet  about  Birds. 


12  2  7  RE  A  TMENT  OF  NA  Ti  ^KE  IN  ENGLISH  FOE  TR  Y 

He  does  not  often  refer  to  specific  trees,  but  he  gives  little  sug- 
gestive pictures  as  of  "  tlie  uncertain  shaded  grove,"  or 

"  the  doubtfull  shade 
By  quivering  branches  made," 

or  of  delightful  resting  places  roofed  with  "  inwoven  branches." 
The  stream  for  which  he  cared  most  was  "  the  gentle  Tave  "  in 
Norfolk.  He  mentions  many  flowers,  but  in  no  new  or  finely 
descriptive  manner.  His  sensitiveness  to  perfumes  we  may  see 
in  such  lines  as, 

"  Sweet  is  the  breath  of  heaven  with  day-spring  born," 
"  Where  the  fresh  hay-cock  breathes  along  the  mead," 

or  in  such  phrases  as  "this  flowre-perfumed  aire."  The  poem  is 
rich  in  color,  as  in  the  descriptions  of  sunrise,  and  of  various 
kinds  of  fruit. 

Though  it  would  be  difficult  to  quote  specific  lines  to  prove 
the  statement,  it  is  nevertheless  true  that  the  whole  poem  con- 
veys in  a  quite  unusual  degree  a  sense  of  warm,  abiding  affection 
for  the  simple  scenes  of  the  country.  "  Smit  with  the  peacefull 
joys  of  lowly  life,"  he  gives  thanks  for  "  the  unmoved  quiet  of 
his  silver  dales,"  and  thinks  with  dread  of  "  the  cares  and  pains 
in  mad  citties."  His  use  of  nature  is  almost  entirely  in  a  running 
assemblage  of  sweet  sights  and  sounds  to  justify  his  preference 
for  country  life. 

Another  of  the  minor  poets  of  this  period  is  \)x.  John  Dalton. 
In  1755  he  wrote  2,  Descriptive  /'is^w,  inscribed  to  Two  Ladies, 
the  daughters  of  Lord  Lonsdale.  It  is  long, 
Dr.  John  Dalton  rambling,  tedious,  but  it  is  of  historical  impor- 
U709-17  3)  tance  as  being  probably  the  first  poetical  tribute 

to  the  beauty  of  Westmoreland  and  Cumberland. 

"  Then  change  the  scene :  to  Nature's  pride, 
Sweet  Keswick's  vale,  the  Muse  will  guide. 
The  Muse,  who  trod  th'  enchanted  ground, 
Who  sail'd  the  wonderous  lake  around, 
With  you  will  haste  once  more  to  hail 
The  beauteous  brook  of  Borrodale." 

He  speaks  of  the  streams  that 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY  I  23 

"  rejoice  to  roar 
Down  the  rough  rocks  of  dread  Lodore," 

and  says  that 

"  Horrors  like  these  at  first  alarm, 
But  soon  with  savage  grandeur  charm, 
And  raise  to  noblest  thoughts  your  mind. 
Thus  by  thy  fall,  Lodore,  reclin'd, 
The  cragged  cliff,  inpendent  wood. 
Whose  shadows  mix  o'er  half  the  flood, 
The  gloomy  clouds,  which  solemn  sail, 
Scarce  lifted  by  the  languid  gale 
O'er  the  cap'd  hill  and  darken'd  vale 

I  view  with  wonder  and  delight, 
A  pleasing  tho'  an  awful  sight." 

Of  Keswick  and  Skiddaw  he  writes, 

"Thy  roofs,  O  Keswick,  brighter  rise! 
The  lake  and  lofty  hills  between, 
Where  giant  Skiddow  shuts  the  scene. 

"  Supreme  of  mountains,  Skiddow,  hail ! 
To  whom  all  Britain  sinks  a  vale  ! 
Lo,  his  imperial  brow,  I  see 
From  foul  usurping  vapors  free ! 
'Twere  glorious  now  his  side  to  climb. 
Boldly  to  scale  his  top  sublime." 

There  are  several  passages  in  the  poem  indicative  of  Dr. 
Dalton's  unusually  close  study  of  streams,  especially  those  near 
Lowther  Castle,  and  in  the  picturesque  valley  of  Borrowdale. 
With  evident  delight  he  traces  the  stream  from  its  mountain 
source,  over  tuneful  falls,  under  broad  spreading  boughs,  along 
silent  meadows,  to  the  wide  lake.  There  is  also  a  fine  passage 
descriptive  of  a  patriarchal  oak  near  Lowther.  It  is  the  first  sus- 
tained description  of  a  specific  tree  with  anything  like  the  mod- 
ern feeling.  It  is  represented  as  standing  in  a  "  sunny  plain 
alone."  Its  reverend  age,  its  majesty,- are  especially  dwelt  upon. 
The  poem  shows  some  excellent  first-hand  observation.  Dr.  Dal- 
ton   is  ahead  of  Wordsworth   in   noticing  the  "  azure  roofs  "  of 


124         TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

the  lowly  cottages.  And  he  should  have  the  credit  of  discovering 
the  beauty  of  the  vale  of  Derwentwater,  and  the  majesty  of 
giant  Skiddaw,  fourteen  years  before  Gray  made  his  famous  tour, 
and  nearly  half  a  century  before  the  lake  poets  set  up  their 
monopoly. 

The  most  important  work  of  this  period  was  doubtless  that 
of  the  Warton  brothers.  Their  father  was  also  a  poet,  and 
he  struck  the  romantic  note  in  his  hatred  of  city 
Joseph  Warton  jj^g  ^^^  |^jg  longing  for  solitude  in  the  country. 
(,1722  I  00)  Joseph  Warton  had  a  long  literary  career  during 
which  he  edited  books,  wrote  poems,  and  contributed  articles  to 
periodicals.  Those  of  his  poems  that  were  of  especial  note  in 
the  history  of  Romanticism  were  written  early  in  lite,  between 
1740  and  1756.  The  Enthusiast  (1740),  Odes  on  Various  Subjects 
(1746),  and  Ode  on  Mr.  Wesfs  Translation  of  Pindar  {\i^C))  are 
the  chief  ones  to  be  studied.  In  these  poems  there  are  many  sum- 
maries of  such  objects  in  nature  as  give  pleasure,  but  there  is 
little  actual  description.  In  details  and  phraseology  there  are 
frequent  echoes  from  Milton  and  Thomson.' 

In  general,  though  unoriginal  in  expression,  the  poems  are 
marked  by  an  unmistakably  genuine  love  of  nature,  and  of 
•nature  untouched  by  man.  The  poet  dislikes  Versailles  whose 
fountains  cast 

"  The  tortur'd  waters  to  the  distant  heav'ns."  ^ 

Even  Kent — 

"'All-beauteous  Nature!  by  thy  boundless  charms,"  "the  vast,  var- 
ious Landscape,"  "  sight-refreshing  green,"  "  the  thousand-colored  tulip," 
are  typical  Thomsonian  phrases. 

"  Liquid  lapse  of  murm'ring  waters  " — Enthusiast,  1.  93,  ParadiseLost,  8:263 ; 
"Mountain  shagg'd  with   horrid  shades" — Enthusiast,  1.  75,  Comus,  1.  429; 
"  When  young-eyed  spring  profusely  throws 
From  her  green  lap  the  pink  and  rose." 

■ — Ode  to  Fancy,  1.  106.     Song  on  May  Morning  ; 
"  Then  lay  me  by  some  haunted  stream. 
Rapt  in  some  wild  poetic  dream." 

— Ode  to  Fancy,  1.  41.     L' Allegro,  1.  129; 
are  some  of  the  characteristic  instances  of  the  echoes  from  Milton. 
•The  Enthusiast. 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY  125 

"  Though  he,  by  rules  unfettered,  boldly  scorns 
Formality  and  method,  round  and  square 
Disdaining,  plans  irregularly  great,"  ' 

cannot  design  like  nature.  No  gardens  however  artfully  adorned 
can  charm  like  "unfrequented  meads  and  pathless  wilds."  The 
poet  finds  peculiar  pleasure  in  all  the  wild,  solitary,  mournful 
aspects  of  nature.  He  loves  "hollow  winds"  and  "ever-beating 
waves,"  and  hoary  mountains  where 

"  Nature  seems  to  sit  alone. "^ 

He  wishes  for 

"some  pine-top'd  precipice 
Abrupt  and  shaggy,  whence  a  foamy  stream 
Like  Anio,  tumbling  roars  ;  or  some  black  heath 
Where  straggling  stands  the  mournful  juniper, 
Or  yew-tree  scath'd."^ 

He  escapes  from  the  hated  city's  "  tradeful  hum  "  and  seeks  for 
solitude  at  "  the  deep  dead  of  night  "  under  the  pale  light  of 
the  moon.  He  is  alive  to  all  the  mysterious,  romantic  sugges- 
tions of  nature.  He  is  charmed  by  the  little  dancing  Fayes  that 
sip  night-dews  and  "  laugh  and  love  "  in  the  dales.  In  storms 
he  hears  demons  and  goblins  shrieking  through  the  dark  air. 
He  is  also  deeply  conscious  of  the  effect  of  nature  on  man.  He 
finds  himself  even  oppressed  by  the  boundless  charms  of  "brooks 
hill,  meadow,  dale,"  and  it  is  his  belief  that  all  nature  conspires 

"To  raise,  to  soothe,  to  harmonize  the  mind." 
Nature  can  give  happiness  beyond  that  of  luxury  or  gratified 
ambition.  These  poems  mark  a  new  phase  in  the  feeling  towards 
nature,  because,  with  little  description,  with  no  theory  to  pro- 
pound, no  moral  to  teach,  no  human  interest  to  exemplify,  the 
poet  with  a  rapt  fervor  and  intensity  cries  out  for  solitary  com- 
munion with  nature  as  a  necessity  of  his  own  being.  Warton 
is  also,  I  think,  the  first  of  the  romantic  poets  to  advocate  a 
return  to  nature  in  the  sense  in  which   Rousseau  used  the  phrase. 

"Happy  the  first  of  men,  ere  yetconfin'd 
To  smoaky  cities  ;  who  in  sheltering  groves. 
Warm  caves,  and  deep-sunk  vallies  liv'd  and  lov'd. 

'  The  Enthusiast.  -  Ode  to  Fancy.  3  The  Enthusiast. 


I  26  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

Yet  why  should  man  mistaken  deem  it  nobler 
To  dwell  in  palaces  and  high-roof'd  halls. 
Than  in  God's  forests,  architect  supreme  !  "  ' 

Joseph  Warton's  exceptionally  strong  love  of  nature  is  empha- 
sized by  the  testimony  of  Bowles  who  traces  his  own  love  of 
nature  to  companionship  with  Dr.  Warton,  and  by  the  testimony 
of  his  brother  Thomas  in  a  poem,  An  Ode  Sent  to  a  Frie/id.  In 
this  poem  Thomas  Warton  tells  of  his  brother's  delight  in  walks 
at  morning  and  evening  through  unfrequented  grassy  lanes,  or 
in  the  deep  forest,  or  up  steep  hills  "  to  view  the  length  of  land- 
scape ever  new." 

A  part  of  the  service  which  Warton  rendered  to  the  poetry  of 
nature  rests  in  the  fact  that  he  led  the  attention  from  Pope  to 
poets  who  had  treated  of  nature  with  imaginative  power.  He 
had  only  scorn  for 

"The  fearful,  frigid  lays  of  cold  and  creeping  Art," 

'the  courtly  silken  lay,"  "the  polished  lyrics,"  of  his  own  day. 
But  it  is  in  his  prose  that  we  find  the  best  evidence  of  his  break 
with  the  classicists.  In  the  dedication  prefixed  to  the  Essay  on 
Pope  (1756)  he  divided  English  poets  into  four  classes,  putting 
in  the  first  class  only  Spenser,  Shakespeare,  and  Milton.  Of  Pope 
he  said,  "  I  revere  the  memory  of  Pope;  I  respect  and  honor  his 
abilities,  but  I  do  not  think  him  at  the  head  of  his  profession." 
He  then  proceeded  to  show  the  difference  "  betwixt  a  man  of  wit, 
a  man  of  sense,  and  a  true  poet."  In  the  first  and  second  sec- 
tions of  the  Essay  he  minutely  discusses  Pope's  descriptive  poetry 
showing  that  his  idea  of  pastoral  poetry  as  representing  some 
golden  age  was  but  "  an  empty  notion,"  and  commenting  severely 
on  his  mixture  of  British  and  Grecian  ideas.  He  condemns 
Windsor  Forest  because  its  images  are  "  equally  applicable  to  any 
place  whatsoever."  In  contrast  with  Pope  he  puts  Thomson,  of 
whose  Seasons  he  gives  a  most  discriminating  eulogy.  It  is  too 
long  to  quote  entire,  but  a  part  of  it  must  be  given  if  only  to 
show  its  remarkably  modern  tone. 

"  Thomson  was  blessed  with  a  strong  and  copious  fancy  ;  he 

'  The  Enthusiast. 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY  127 

hath  enriched  poetry  with  a  variety  of  new  and  original  images, 
which  he  painted  from  nature  itself,  and  from  his  own  actual 
observations  ;  his  descriptions  have,  therefore,  a  distinctness  and 
truth,  which  are  utterly  wanting  to  those  of  poets  who  have  only 
copied  from  each  other,  and  have  never  looked  abroad  on  the 
objects  themselves.  Thomson  was  accustomed  to  wander  away 
into  the  country  for  days,  and  for  weeks,  attentive  to  '  each  rural 
sight,  each  rural  sound,'  while  many  a  poet,  who  has  dwelt  for 
years  in  the  Strand,  has  attempted  to  describe  fields  and  rivers, 
and  generally  succeeded  accordingly.  Hence  that  nauseous  repe- 
tition of  the  same  circumstances  ;  hence  that  disgusting  impro- 
priety of  introducing  what  may  be  called  a  set  of  hereditary 
images,  without  proper  regard  to  the  age,  or  climate,  or  occasion 
in  which  they  were  formerly  used.  ....         And 

if  our  poets  would  accustom  themselves  to  contemplate  fully 
every  object,  before  they  attempted  to  describe  it,  they  would  not 
fail  of  giving  their  readers  more  new  and  complete  images  than 
they  generally  do.'" 

Wordsworth  himself  was  hardly  more  emphatic  in  his  scorn 
of  vague  descriptions  and  hereditary  images,  and  in  his  plea  for 
simple  truth  to  nature.  The  passages  already  quoted  are  sufift-i 
cient  to  show  how  self-conscious  and  theoretical  was  Warton's 
romanticism.  He  was  not,  however,  so  far  as  the  study  of  nature 
alone  is  concerned,  the  first  self-conscious  worker  in  the  new  field. 
Ramsay  and  Shenstone  had  already,  apologetically  to  be  sure,  but 
none  the  less  distinctly,  entered  their  protest  against  the  conven- 
tional imitations  of  their  day.  But  Warton  uttered  no  apology. 
His  theory  was  fully  established  in  his  own  mind.  He  came 
down  on  the  classicists  with  hammer  and  tongs,  and  enunciated 
in  1756  at  least  two  of  the  cardinal  doctrines  of  the  poets  of 
nature  who  wrote  forty  years  later. 

Thomas  Warton's  poems  seem  at  first  reading  to  be  but  a  patch- 
work of  phrases  from  Milton.''    The  Pleasures  of  Melancholy  (i  745) 

'  An  Essay  on  the  Genius  and  Writings  of  Pope. 

-  Note  such  hnes  as 

"  Haste  thee  nymph,  and  hand  in  hand, 
With  thee  lead  a  buxom  hand  ; 


1 2 8  TREA TMENT  OF  NA TURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETR  V 

was  written  when  he  was  but  seventeen.  The  theme  of  this  poem 
is  a  defense  of  solitude  against  various  social  pleasures,  and  it  has 

the  customary  note  of  delight  in  darkness,  tombs, 
Thomas  Warton  pale  shrines,  "  fav'rite  midnight  haunts,"  "pale 
(1728-1790)         December's    foggy     glooms,"    and    "  the    pitying 

moon."  T//e  First  of  April,  Ode  on  the  Approach 
of  Summer,  and  Morning,  an  Ode,  are  of  more  importance  so  far 
as  the  love  of  nature  is  concerned.  The  lines  on  the  opening 
spring  show  close  observation. 

"  Reluctant  comes  the  timid  spring." 

"  Fringing  the  forest's  devious  edge 
Half  rob'd  appears  the  hawthorn  hedge." 

"  Scant  along  the  ridgy  land 
The  beans  their  new-born  ranks  expand." 

The  rooks  swarm  with  clamorous  call  and 

"  Wreathe  their  capacious  nests  anew." 

The  fisher  "  bursting  through  the  crackling  sedge  " 

"  Startles  from  the  bordering  wood 
The  bashful  wild-duck's  early  brood." 

"  And  so  loud  the  blackbird  sings 
That  far  and  near  the  valley  rings." 

He  notes  also  the  kite  that  sails  above  the  crowded  roof  of  the 
dove-cote,  the  plumy  crest  of  thistles,  the  russet  tints  and  gleams 
of  light  in  the  tops  of  trees  at  sunset,  the  faint,  varying  shades 
of  green  when  the  new  foliage  appears  on  the  trees,  and  the 
blue  tint  of  the  unchanging  pine  standing  in  their  midst. 
Warton's  pleasure  in  wide  views  is  indicated  in  several  passages 
where  he  speaks  of  climbing  a  hill  for  the  sake  of  the  broad 
prospect  of  field  and  stream.  He  had  also  an  appreciation  of 
wild  nature,  as  we  see  from  the  descriptions  in  The  Grave  of 
King  Arthur.  Warton's  work  is  of  interest  because  of  the 
many  attractive  details  scattered  through  his  poems,  but  there  is 

Bring  fantastic-footed  joy,"  etc., 
"  But  ever  against  restless  heat,"  etc., 
"  Let  not  my  due  feet  fail  to  climb,"  etc. 

Approach  of  Summer. 


'       NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY   129 

little  unity  of  effect.  The  general  impression  is  that  he  saw 
nature  first  through  Milton's  eyes,  and  that  when  he  afterwards 
made  many  charming  discoveries  for  himself  he  tried  to  express 
them  in  the  //  Penseroso  manner. 

Hischief  influence  was  in  his  Observations  on  the  Faerie  Queen  and 
in  his  History  of  Poetry,  but  except  as  attention  was  thus  directed 
to  older  writers,  these  works  had  no  effect  on  the  poetry  of  nature. 

In   Joseph   Warton's   Enthusiast  (1740)  the   love   of  solitary 

communion    with    nature   was   supreme.     About   fourteen  years 

later    appeared    William    Whitehead's    Enthusiast, 

1  ^*°^  which  is  of  interest  here  because  it  shows  so  well 

Whitehead  ,             .... 

/            „_„,  the  typical   eighteenth  century  view  in   contrast  to 

(.1715—1785)  .  r              o                               J 

the  pure  romanticism  of  Warton.  In  Whitehead's 
Enthusiast  the  poet  yields  instinctively  to  the  new  spirit,  but  is 
suddenly  recalled  to  himself,  is  rendered  sane  by  the  wise  admo- 
nitions of  Reason.  It  is  a  bright  day  in  May.  The  poet, 
entranced  by  the  beauty  about  him,  walks  forth, 

"  With  loit'ring  steps  regardless  where, 
So  soft,  so  genial  was  the  air, 
So  wond'rous  bright  the  day. 

And  now  vc\y  eyes  with  transport  rove 
O'er  all  the  blue  expanse  above, 

Unbroken  by  a  cloud  ! 
And  now  beneath  delighted  pass,  • 
Where,  winding  through  the  deep-green  grass, 

A  full-brim'd  river  flow'd." 

"  These,  these  are  joys  alone,  I  cry  ; 
'Tis  here,  divine  Philosophy, 

Thou  deign'st  to  fix  thy  throne  ! 
Here  Contemplation  points  the  road 
Through  Nature's  charms  to  Nature's  God  ! 

These,  these  are  joys  alone  !" 

Then  Reason  whispers  "  monitory  strains,"  and  teaches  the 
Enthusiast  that  "  light,  and  shade,  and  warmth,  and  air,"  that  the 
"  philosophic  calmness,"  the  visionary  sense  of  "  uni.  jrsal  love," 
which  come  to  man  from  nature,  must  sink  into  insignificance 
before  the   exalted  joys   of  Virtue,  and  reminds  the   poet   that 


130         TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

*'  man  was  made  for  man."  The  intrinsic  value  of  this  poem  is 
slight,  but  it  is  noteworthy  because  we  see  the  two  tendencies 
contending  for  mastery.  Whitehead  was  no  poet.  He  simply 
reflected  in  a  turbid  fashion  what  more  original  men  were  saying. 
His  tolerably  full  statement  of  the  romantic  attitude  towards 
nature,  with  his  subsequent  assertion  of  the  triumphant  good 
sense  of  Classicism  is,  therefore,  valuable  testimony  to  the  two- 
fold spirit  of  the  age. 

In  general  we  may  say  that  we  find  auring  this  period,  rural 
didactic  poetry  treating  of  English  subjects  in  the  manner  of 
John  Philips  in  Cyder,  as  in  Somerville  and  Smart.  There  is 
good  local  color  in  some  descriptive  poems  as  in  Shenstone, 
Gray,  Dr.  Dalton,  and  Relph.  There  is  throughout  the  period 
first-hand  observation,  but  it  is  not  so  abundant,  nor  is  the  open- 
ness of  the  poet's  mind  to  sensuous  impression  so  apparent  as  in 
some  preceding  work.  There  is,  however,  delicate  and  poetic 
handling  of  material  as  in  the  poems  of  Gray  and  Collins  and 
Greene.  There  is  a  self-conscious  endeavor  to  break  away  from 
ancient  models,  as  in  Ramsay's  Preface  and  Shenstone's  Preface, 
and  from  existing  poetic  domination  as  in  Warton's  protest 
against  Pope.  Truth  to  nature,  independence  of  observation, 
as  necessary  poetic  qualities,  are  for  the  first  time  openly  and 
theoretically  insisted  on  in  Warton's  Essay.  There  is  scorn 
of  the  utilitarian  yiew  of  nature,  as  in  Shenstone.  The  debt 
of  man  to  nature  is  dwelt  upon  with  new  emphasis  by  Young, 
Shenstone,  and  especially  Akenside.  The  sense  of  a  divine  spirit 
in  nature  is  clearly  expressed  by  Akenside,  and  less  clearly  by 
Young.  The  purely  romantic  love  of  nature  in  connection  with 
sentimental  melancholy  is  fully  exemplified  in  Joseph  Warton. 
There  is  strong  personal  enthusiasm  for  nature  in  Shenstone, 
Akenside,  and  Joseph  Warton.  There  is  love  of  animals  in 
Shenstone  and  Jago.  There  is  notable  representation  of  country 
people  in  Relph  and  Gray  and  Somerville. 

THE    PERIOD    FROM     I  756    TO     I79S. 

From  the  Essay  on  Pope  to  the  Lyrical  Ballads  is  a  long 
period  but  any  subdivision  would  be  purely  arbitrary.    It  is  chiefly 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OE  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY  131 

characterized  by  the  development  and  emphasis  of  influences 
already  manifestly  operant.  The  most  valuable  work  is  that 
of  Macpherson,  Beattie,  Burns,  Covvper,  and  Blake.  Gold- 
smith is  of  less  importance.  Brown,  Langhorne,  Logan,  and 
Bowles,  though  minor  poets,  are  significant  in  their  poetry  of 
nature.  Of  less  note  are  Mickle,  Grainger,  Bruce,  Cunningham, 
Graeme,  and  Scott. 

John  Brown,   otherwise   unimportant,   is  interesting  because 

of    his    early    appreciation    of    the    scenery    of     the     English 

Lakes.     He  wrote  a  description  of  Keswick'  in  a 

7  ,  letter    to   Lyttleton,  and  his  undated   Fragment 

(1715-1766)  ■'  " 

of  a  Rhapsody  Written    at  the  Lakes  of  Westmore- 

hind  is  probably  the  outcome  of  the  same  visit.     The  Fragment 

is  short  and  may  be  quoted  entire  as  well   because  of  its  beauty, 

as  because  of  its  subject  and  early  date  : 

*'  Now  sunk  the  sun,  now  twilight  sunk,  and  night 
Rode  in  her  zenith;  nor  a  passing  breeze 
Sigh'd  to  the  groves,  which  in  the  midnight  air 
Stood  motionless;  and  in  the  peaceful  floods 
Inverted  hung;  for  now  the  billow  slept 
Along  the  shore,  nor  heav'd  the  deep,  but  spread 
A  shining  mirror  to  the  moon's  pale  orb, 
Which,  dim  and  waning,  o'er  the  shadowy  cliffs. 
The  solemn  woods  and  spiry  mountain  tops 
Her  glimmering  faintness  threw.     Now  every  eye 
Oppress'd  with  toil,  was  drown'd  in  deep  repose, 
Save  that  the  unseen  shepherd  in  his  watch, 
Propt  on  his  crook,  stood  listening  by  the  fold, 
And  gaz'd  the  starry  vault  and  pendant  moon. 
Nor  voice  nor  sound  broke  on  the  deep  serene 
But  the  soft  murmur  of  swift  gushing  rills. 
Forth  issuing  from  the  mountain's  distant  steep 
(Unheard  till  now,  and  now  scarce  heard)  proclaimed 
All  things  at  rest,  and  imag'd  the  still  voice 
Of  quiet  whispering  to  the  ear  of  night." 

For  a  curious  coincidence  compare  Wordsworth's  lines  written 
thirty  years  later: 

'  See  page  195,  under  Travels. 


132         TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

"The  song  of  mountain  streams,  unheard  by  day, 
Now  hardly  heard,  beguiles  my  homeward  way." 

John  Langhorne  was  born   at  Kirby-Stephen  in   Westmore- 
land.    His  best  poems  were   published  in    1759-60,  though    his 
Fables  of  Flora   did  not  appear  till   1771.     Lang- 

^     I  home  had  an  enthusiastic  personal  love  for  nature. 

(1735-1779)  ^ 

He  dwelt  with  rapture  on   stream   and   flower  and 
field  and  sky.'     His  wish  was, 

"  Oh  let  me  still  with  simple  nature  live, 
My  lowly  field  flowers  on  her  altar  lay; 
Enjoy  the  blessings  that  she  meant  to  give 
And  calmly  waste  my  inoffensive  day,"  - 
Or  again, 

"  Slow  let  me  climb  the  mountain's  airy  brow; 
The  green  height  gained,  in  museful  rapture  lie, 
Sleep  to  the  murmur  of  the  woods  below 
Or  look  to  nature  with  a  lover's  eye."  ^ 

His  preference  for  nature  untouched  by  art  is  seen  in  the  charm- 
ing little  Fable''  showing  the  superiority  of  the  wild  rose  to  the 
more  splendid  cultivated  rose.     And   in  another  Fable  he  says; 

"Come  let  us  leave  the  painted  plain, 
This  waste  of  flowers  that  palls  the  eye; 
The  walks  of  nature's  wilder  reign 
Shall  please  in  plainer  majesty."  ^ 

That  he  had  a  tender  feeling  towards  animals  is  shown  by  his 
poems  on  birds  and  by  his  protest  against  the  cruelty  of  confin- 
ing birds  in  cages.  The  most  striking  characteristic  of  Lang- 
horne's  poems  is  his  direct  expression  of  the  excellence  of  the  gift 
that  nature's  hand  bestows.  A  part  of  this  excellent  gift  is  the 
inspiration  to  poetry.  The  young  shepherd  was  inspired  with 
"  poetic  charms  "  as  he  wandered  through  the  wild  scenes 

"  By  Yarrow's  banks  or  groves  of  Endermay." 

In  his  own  experience 

'  Hope.  4  Fable  IV. 

^  Vision  of  Fancy,  Elegy  3.  5  Fable,  The  Bee  Flower. 

Vision  of  P'ancy,  Elegy  3. 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY  133 

"  The  nameless  charms  of  high  poetic  thought," 

were  born  of  "  spring's  green  hours,"  and  the  niurnuiring  shore 
spoke  to  him  "divine  words,'"  while  in  earlier  days  "each  lay 
that  falter'd  from  his  tongue"  had  been  "  from  Eden's  murmurs 
causrht."  ^  In  an  ode  to  the  "  Genius  of  Westmoreland,"  he 
savs  that  she  kindled  the  "sacred  fire  "  in  his  heart,  that  she  gave 
him  "  thoughts  too  high  to  be  exprest."  Again  he  speaks  of 
an  hour  in  his  youth  when 

"  The  woodland  genius  came 
And  touched  me  with  his  holy  flame."  ^ 

Statements  still  more  remarkable  as  foreshadowing  later  doctrines 
are  found  in  such  lines  as, 

"  Whatever  charms  the  ear  or  eye, 
All  beauty  and  all  harmony. 
If  sweet  sensations  they  produce, 
I  know  they  have  their  moral  use. 

I  know  that  nature's  charms  can  move 
The  springs  that  strike  to  virtue's  love."  •• 

Or  these  lines, 

"  Has  fair  philosophy  thy  love  ? 
Away  !  she  lives  in  yonder  grove. 
If  the  sweet  muse  thy  pleasure  gives. 
With  her,  in  yonder  grove,  she  lives. 
And  if  religion  claims  thy  care, 
Religion  fled  from  books  is  there. 
For  first  from  nature's  works  we  drew 
Our  knowledge  and  our  virtue  too."5 

Langhorne's  perception  of  the  power  of  nature  over  man,  and 
his  passionate  sense  of  personal  indebtedness  to  nature  are 
the  keynotes  of  his  work.  In  a  narrow  way  and  with  feeble 
speech  he  shows  a  mental  and  spiritual  experience  of  the  same 
type  as  that  which  Wordsworth  records  of  his  own  vouth.  His 
motive    in   writing,    "  an    unaffected    wish    to  promote  the  love 

'  To  the  Rev.  Lamb.  3  Autumnal  Elegy. 

~  Fable  .IV.  ■*  Fable  X. 

5  Inscription  on  the  Door  of  a  Study. 


1 3  4         TREA  TMENT  OF  NA  TURE  IN  ENGLISH  FOE  TR  Y 

of  nature   and  the   interests  of    humanity,"   is   likewise   Words- 

worthian. 

In  Christopher   Smart's  one  great  poem,   V\\^  Song  to  David 

(i  763),  the  use  of  nature  is  of  so  strange  a  character  that  it  refuses 

classification  under  the  customary  categories.    The 

Christopher        chief  thought  of  the  poem  in  the  parts  where  nature 

,  .         is    used  has    to   do   with   the   creative    energy    of 

(1722-1770)  •^-' 

God,  the  song  of  praise  that  is  eternally  his  from  all 
existence,  and  the  exceeding  sweetness,  strength,  beauty,  and  glory 
of  the  Spirit  of  God  in  man.  These  themes  are  not  new  with 
Smart  in  this  poem.  In  his  prize  poems  ten  years  before  he  had 
taken  the  attributes  of  God  as  his  subject,  and  the  general  line  of 
thought,  and  the  method  of  proof  by  the  rapid  accumulation  of 
illustrative  images  drawn  from  nature  are  practically  the  same  as 
in  the  Song  to  David.  Here  and  there  are  instances  of  the  same 
noble  conceptions  and  striking  phrases,  as  in  this  pictu  re  of  a  tree: 

"The  oak 
His  lordly  head  uprears,  and  branching  arms 
Extends — behold  in  regal  solitude 
And  pastoral  magnificence  he  stands 
So  simple  !  and  so  great  I     The  underwood 
Of  meaner  rank  an  awful  distance  keep." ' 

Or  this  description  of  the  Leviathan  that, 

"The  terror  and  the  glory  of  the  main, 
His  pastime  takes  with  transport  proud  to  see, 
The  ocean's  vast  dominions  all  his  own."^ 

It  is,  however,  only  in  the  Song  that  the  early  themes  are 
treated  with  sustained  energy  of  thought  and  splendor  of  ima- 
gery. In  this  poem  each  thought  is  abundantly  illustrated  from 
nature.  The  details  are  brought  together  from  every  clime  and 
season.  They  are  poured  forth  with  impetuous  ardor.  The 
excited  imagination  of  the  poet  does  not  hesitate  and  choose. 
The  universe    is  laid   under  contribution.     There  is  a  prodigal 

'  The  Immensity  of  the  Supreme  Being. 

"The  Immensity  of  the  Supreme  Being,  1.  56.  Cf.  also  the  similar  lines  in 
Hymn  to  the  Supreme  Being,  st.  16.  It  was  apparently  a  favorite  image.  See 
Browning's  reference  to  it  in  his  poem  on  Smart. 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY  135 

heaping  up  of  the  treasures  of  nature,  an  almost  barbaric  splendor 
of  images.  Does  the  poet  wish  to  say  that  all  nature  praises 
God?  The  earth  passes  before  him  as  in  a  vision.  The  great 
song  of  adoration  swells  upon  his  ear  from  every  form  of  harmo- 
nious activity.  Seasons  change,  almonds  glow,  tendrils  climb, 
fruit  trees  blossom,  birds  build  their  nests,  bell-fiowers  nod,  the 
spotted  ounce  and  her  cubs  play,  harvests  ripen,  wild  carnations 
blow,  the  pheasant  shows  his  glossy  neck,  the  squirrel  hoards  nuts, 
the  map  of  nature  is  crowded  with  scenes  of  beauty,  the  crocus 
"burnishes  alive"  upon  the  snow-clad  earth,  the  bullfinch  sings 
his  flute  note,  the  redbreast  balances  on  the  hazel  spray,  silver 
fish  glide  through  rivers,  cataracts  fall,  fruits  are  luscious,  gums  give 
out  incense,  all  to  "  heap  up  the  measure,  load  the  scales  "  with 
praise  to  the  Lord  who  is  great  and  glad.  In  this  rapid  summary 
there  is  a  pomp,  an  energy,  an  activity  that  is  indescribable.  A 
later  stanza  on  strength  is  almost  terrifying  in  its  powerful  ima- 
gery. 

"Strong  is  the  lion — like  the  coal 
His  eyeball — like  a  bastion's  mole 
His  chest  against  the  foes  : 
Strong  the  gier-eagle  on  his  sail, 
Strong  against  tide  the  enormous  whale 
Emerges  as  he  goes." 

I  know  nothing  like  it  except  Blake's  Tiger  which  is  marked  by 
the  same  tenseness  and  abrupt  energv. 

Many  of  the  details  in  Smart's  poems  were  drawn  from  his 
reading,  especially  from  the  Hebrew  Scriptures.  Thev  could  not 
have  come  from  observation  for  they  have  little  to  do  with  the 
"  old,  oft  catalogued  repository  of  things  in  skv  and  wave  and 
land."  The  images  are  fresh,  original,  daring.  They  startle  the 
mind  out  of  passivity. 

Another  point  to  be  noted  is  the  peculiar  combination  of 
facts.  Bears,  sleek  tigers,  ponies,  and  kids,  are  the  beasts  assem- 
bled to  illustrate  God's  creative  activity,  and  so  in  other  combi- 
nations. Objects  the  least  likely  to  suggest  each  other  are  brought 
together.  In  the  same  way  facts  from  nature  and  from  human 
nature  are  strangely  mingled.     Among  beauteous  things  are  reck- 


1 36  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

oned  a  fleet  before  a  gale,  a  host  in  glittering  armor,  a  wild  garden, 
a  moonlight  night,  and  a  virgin  before  her  spouse. 

Amidst  the  prettinesses,  decencies,  timidities,  of  the  eighteenth 
century  poetry  of  nature,  this  poem  by  Smart  sounds  out  like 
a  trumpet.  The  marshaled  facts  move  forward  like  a  cohort  of 
soldiers  with  a  splendid  tread  that  shakes  the  earth.  The  whole 
effect  is  Hebraic,  apocalyptic. 

Mickle's  chief  poems  are  Syr  Martyn  (1767)  Pollio  (1762)  and 

some  shorter  pieces.     In  Pollio  Mickle  makes  frequent  references 

to  his  own  love  of   nature.     The  country  he   knew 

William  \>t.^\    was   that   about    Roslin   Castle  where  he  was 

7  ,        brought  up,  but  he  was   not  unfamiliar  with  other 

(1738-1788)  ^        ^ 

parts  of  southeast  Scotland  as  is  shown  by  his  refer- 
ences to  the  Forth,  the  Annan,  the  Wauchope,  the  Ewes,  to  the 
dales  of  Tiviot,  and  to  various  country  seats.  His  interest  in 
nature  was  varied  in  character.  In  Almada  Hill  a.v\6.  May  Day 
there  are  frequent  appreciative  lines  on  mountains,  as; 

"Where  Snowden's  front  ascends  the  skies," 

"The  tower-like  summits  of  the  mountain  shore." 

There  are  briefer  references  in  such  phrases  as,  "  the  hills  of 
Cheviot,"  "the  thyme-clad  mountain,"  "the  mountains  gray," 
"Old  Snowden,"  "  Snowden's  hoary  side,"  "the  curving  moun- 
tain's craggy  brow,"  which  serve  at  least  to  show  that  Mickle  was 
not  unconscious  of  the  scenery  about  him.  One  or  two  lines 
indicate  the  effect  of  the  sea  on  his  mind.  Ks  he  stood  on 
Almada  Hill  and  looked  out  over  old  Ocean, 

"By  human  eye  untempted,  unexplored, 
An  awful  solitude," 
it  was 

the  last  dim  wave,  in  boundless  space 

Involved  and  lost"' 

that^held  his  impatient  imagination.  Even  so  brief  a  passage 
serves  to  illustrate  the  awakened  curiosity,  the  new  sense  ol 
pleasure  in  the  infinite  and  the  unknown,  that  characterized  the 
romantic  impulse.     Amother  modern  note  in  Mickle  is  his  inter- 

'  Almada  Hill,  I.  330. 


NATURE  IX  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY  137 

est  in  moonlight  and  stars.  There  are  several  picturesque  descrip- 
tive lines,  as, 

"  When  sudden,  o'er  the  fir-crown'd  hill 
The  full  orb'd  moon  arose."' 
"  How  bright,  emerging  o'er  yon  broom-clad  height 
The  silver  empress  of  the  night  appears."  - 

"  While  on  the  distant  east 
Led  by  her  starre,  the  horned  moone  looks  o'er 
The  bending  forest,  and  with  rays  increast 
Ascends."  '^ 

"  The  star  of  evening  glimmers  o'er  the  dale 
And  leads  the  silent  host  of  heaven  alone:."* 

In  spite  of  the  classical  note  in  such  a  phrase  as  "  silver  empress" 
these  lines  show  not  only  genuine  pleasure  in  the  loveliness  of 
night,  but  also  first-hand  knowledge  of  its  phenomena.  Close- 
ness of  observation  is  further  indicated  in  the  lines  on  birds,  as  in 
the  description  of  the  "sootie  black-bird,"  that  chaunts  his  shrill 
vespers  from  the  topmost  spray  of  some  tall  tree,  or  of  the  eagle 
that  sails  through  the  sky  with  "wide-spread  wings  unmov'd  "  till 
suddenly  he  "sheer  descends  "  on  the  brow  of  Snowden. 

In  his  representation  of  flowers  Mickle  notes  the  "  daisie- 
whitened  plain,"  and  "  the  white  and  yellow  flowers  that  love  the 
dank,"  but  he  was  especially  attracted  by  flowers  growing  among 
rocks  or  upon  cliffs.  One  close  observation  is  of  the  twinkling 
lines  of  gossamer  that  on  summer  mornings  hang  from  spray  to 
spray. 

Mickle's  poems  show  a  genuine  love  of  nature.  He  abounds 
in  reminiscences  of  his  happy  youth 

"  By  the  banks  of  the  crystal-streamed  Esk, 
Where  the  Wauchope  her  yellow  wave  joins."  ^ 

His  chief  use  of  nature  is  in  the  passages  where  he  gives  these 
early  associations,  and  in  the  many  similitudes  in  his  Elegies. 
He  always  sees  nature  in  a  pathetic  or  joyous  union  with  past 
experiences  in  his  own  life  or  in  that  of  others. 

'  The  Sorceress,  st.  4.  ■»  Pollio,  st.  3. 

^  Elegy,  St.  4.  5  Eskdale  Braes,  st.  i. 

">  Syr  Martyn,  2:31. 


^3^ 


TREATMENT  OE  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 


J 


Grainger's   chief  poem,  The  Sugar  Cane,  appeared   in    1764. 
The  theme  and  outline  are  presented  in  the  first  four  lines  : 

"  What  soil  the  cane  affects  ;  what  care  demands  ; 
Be-neaih  what  signs  to  plant  ;  what  ills  await  ; 
How  the  hot  nectar  best  to  crystallize  ; 
And  Afric's  sable  progeny  to  treat  " 

Grainger  recognizes  as  his  poetical  masters, 
James  Grainger  Maro,  the  "pastoral  Dyer"  {The  Fleece), 
(1724-1767)  "  Pomona's  bard  "  {Cyder),  Smart  {The  Hop  Gar- 

den), and  Somerville  {The  Chace).  The  Sugar 
Cane  is  a  purely  didactic  poem  and  is  no  real  contribution  to  the 
new  feeling  towards  nature.  The  first  part  of  the  Ode  to  Soli- 
tude, a  long  ode  beginning, 

"O  Solitude,  Romantic  maid," 

is  another  example  of  the  sentimental  view  of  nature,  with  fre- 
quent and  obvious  imitations  of  Milton  ;  but  the  last  half  of  the 
poem  declares  .that  only  the  old  and  feeble  should  seek  the  soli- 
tude of  the  country,  that  shades  are  no  medicine  for  a  troubled 
mind,  and,  in  general,  that  the  proper  business  of  mankind  is 
man. 

Chronologically  Macpherson's  Poems  of  Ossiaii  belong  in  the 
five  years  before  the  publication  of  Percy's  Reliques  (1765),  and 
they    are   a   part    of    the    same   general    stream    of 
James  influence,   the   revival   of  folk-lore.     These   poems 

are  epic  in  character,  their  aim  being  the  celebra- 
tion of  the  exploits  of  Celtic  heroes.  They  are  of 
importance  in  this  study  because  the  adventures  of  Fingal 
Ossian,  C)scar,  and  Gaul  are  throughout  closely  associated  with 
natural  scenery  of  a  wild  and  romantic  sort.'  Mist-covered 
mountains,  storm-swept  skies,  rough  streams,  desolate  shores, 
dim  moonlight  nights,  are  the  most  frequent  scenic  details,  and 
they  are  so  wrought  into  the  story  that  the  human  tragedy  and  the 
scene  where  it  was  enacted  cannot  be  thought  of  apart.  Tlie 
three  ways  in  which  nature  is  used  in  these  poems,  as  dramatic 
background,   in   similitudes,   and   in    apostrophes,  will   serve    to 

'See  Life  and  Letters  of  James  Macpherson,  by  Bailey  Saunders,  p.  14. 


Macpherson 

(1738-1796) 


NATURE  JN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURA    I39 

illustrate  both  the  prominence  given  to  nature  and  the  close 
union  between  human  emotions  and  the  varying  phenomena  of 
the  external  world.  A  fine  example  of  a  bright  description  to 
usher  in  a  sudden  contrasting  portent  of  disaster  is  in  the  open- 
ing lines  of   Temora. 

"  The  blue  waves  of  Erin  roll  in  light.  The  mountains  are 
covered  with  day.  Trees  shake  their  dusky  heads  in  the  breeze. 
Gray  torrents  pour  their  noisy  streams.  Two  green  hills,  with 
aged  oaks,  surround  a  narrow  plain.  The  blue  course  of  a 
stream  is  there."  The  song  that  was  "  lovely,  but  sad,  and  left 
silence  in  Carric-Thura,"  has  an  autumn  picture  as  its  fit  setting. 

"  Autumn  is  dark  on  the  mountains  ;  gray  mist  rests  on  the 
hills.  The  whirlwind  is  heard  on  the  heath.  Dark  rolls  the 
river  through  the  narrow  plain.  A  tree  stands  alone  on  the  hill 
and  marks  the  slumbering  Connal.  The  leaves  whirl  round  with 
the  wind  and  strew  the  graves  of  the  dead."  ' 

The  description  of  the  desolation  of  Balclutha  is  the  prelude 
to  the  song  of  mourning  for  the  unhappy  Moina.  '^ 

The  use  of  nature  in  apostrophes  is  characteristic  of  the 
Ossian  poems.  Of  these  the  most  famous  is  the  address  to  the 
sun.^  There  are  frequent  apostrophes  to  winds,  streams,  and 
tempests,  to  stars,  and  especially  to  the  moon.  Two  good  exam- 
ples are  the  poet's  address  to  the  evening  star  in  The  Songs  of 
Selma,  and  to  the  moon  in  Dar  Thitla.  Of  these  the  second 
may  be  quoted  as  fairly  typical : 

"  Daughter  of  heaven,  fair  art  thou  !  the  silence  of  thy  face 
is  pleasant !  Thou  comest  forth  in  loveliness.  The  stars  attend 
thy  blue  course  in  the  east.  The  clouds  rejoice  in  thy  presence, 
O  Moon  !  they  brighten  their  dark-brown  sides.  Who  is  like 
thee  in  heaven,  light  of  the  silent  night  ?  The  stars  are  ashamed 
in  thy  presence.  .  .  .  But  thou  thyself  shalt  fail  one  night, 
and  leave  thy  blue  path  in  heaven.  The  stars  will  then  lift  their 
heads.  .  .  .  Thou  art  now  clothed  with  thy  brightness. 
Look  from  thy  gates  in  the  sky.  Burst  the  cloud,  O  wind  !  that 
the  daughter  of  night  may  look  forth  ;  that  the  shaggy  moun- 
tains may  brighten,  and  the  ocean  roll  its  white  waves   in   light." 

'Carric-Thura.  -Carthon. 


14°         TREATMENT  OE  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

It  will  be  observed  that  in  almost  every  apostrophe  there  is 
beautiful  external  description  together  with  an  underlying  anal- 
ogy to  the  thought  of  the  poem.  In  the  passages  quoted  above 
the  triumphant  brightness  of  the  moon  in  her  blue  path,  and  the 
suggestion  of  the  coming  night  when  she  shall  fail  in  heaven, 
are  but  types  of  the  beauty  of  Dar  Thula  and  of  the  day  when, 
though  the  winds  of  spring  shall  be  abroad,  though  the  flowers 
shall  shake  their  heads  on  the  green  hills,  and  the  woods  shall 
wave  their  growing  leaves,  the  white-bosomed  maiden  shall  not 
again  move  in  the  steps  of  her  loveliness. 

Dr.  Blair  in  his  full  study  of  the  similitudes  of  Ossian  admits 
that  they  are  too  "  thick-sown,"  and  that  they  are  drawn  from  a 
narrow  range  of  objects.  But  he  claims,  on  the  other  hand,  that 
the  similes  have  the  exceptional  vividness  that  comes  from  first- 
hand observation,'  and  that  they  show  an  imaginative  perception 
of  subtle  analogies.^  Dr.  Blair's  recognition  of  beauty  and  con- 
gruity  was  so  quickened  by  his  partisanship  of  Ossian  that  his 
conclusions  usually  need  to  be  scrutinized  in  the  cold  light  of 
facts.  The  subtlety  of  the  analogies  certainly  often  escapes  the 
ordinary  reader,  but  no  one  can  fail  to  observe  the  pathetic 
beauty  of  the  little  pictures  into  which  the  similitudes  are  often 
elaborated.  Music,  for  instance,  is  compared  to  "  the  rising 
breeze,  that  whirls  at  first  the  thistle's  beard,  then  flies  dark- 
shadowy  over  the  grass."  Again  a  song  is  "like  the  voice  of  a 
summer  breeze,  when  it  lifts  the  head  of  flowers  and  curls  the 
lakes  and  streams."  The  heroes  contended  "  like  gales  of 
spring,  as  they  fly  along  the  hill,  and  bend  by  turns  the  feebly- 
whistling  grass."  The  warriors  are  "  bright  as  the  sunshine 
before   a  storm ;  when   the  west  wind   collects   the   clouds,  and 

'  Dr.  Blair  has  a  significant  comment  on  the  truth  in  the  poems  of  Ossian. 
"  The  introduction  of  foreign  images  betrays  a  poet  copying  not  from  nature, 
but  from  other  writers.  Hence  so  many  lions  and  tigers,  and  eagles  and  ser- 
pents which  we  meet  with  in  the  similes  of  modern  poets ;  as  if  these  animals 
had  acquired  some  right  to  a  place  in  poetical  comparisons  for  ever,  because 
employed  by  ancient  authors.  Thev  employed  them  with  propriety,  as  objects 
generally  known  in  their  country ;  but  they  are  absurdly  used  for  illustration  by 
us,  who  know  them  only  at  second-hand,  or  by  description." 

^Blair's  Critical  Dissertation,  in  Tauchnitz  ed.  of  the  Ossian  Poems. 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY  141 

Morven  echoes  over  all  her  oaks."  In  these  and  many  similar 
comparisons  we  see  how  the  beauty  of  the  suggested  natural 
picture  led  the  poet  into  a  use  of  details  not  necessary  for  his 
illustrations.  The  importance  of  the  poetry  of  Ossian  in  the 
evolution  of  the  poetry  of  nature  rests  on  its  early  date,  its  close 
interweaving  of  human  emotions  and  natural  scenes,  and  its 
abundant  and  appreciative  use  of  wild,  free  nature. 

Y^xcy'^  Reliques  appeared  in  176^'.  The  publication  of  these 
ballads  was  of  great  importance  to  the  cause  of  the  romantic 
revival  in  general.  The  ballads  were,  however,  of 
Bishop  Percy  somewhat  less  significance  in  their  influence  on  the 
'  I  II J  j^g^  feeling  toward  nature,  h.  ballad  would  never 
interrupt  the  story  for  a  description,  and  there  would,  of  course, 
never  be  any  hint  of  a  philosophy  of  nature.  But  throughout 
the  ballads  there  are  casual  touches  of  description  showing  a 
genuine  love  for  some  forms  of  nature,  especially  the  forest,  green 
hills,  and  moors.  "Upon  the  wide  moors,"  "on  moors  so 
broad,"  "  over  the  fields  so  brown,"  "over  the  lea,"  "over  the 
downs,"  are  characteristic  phrases.  The  castles  are  usually  on  a 
hill  and  command  a  wide  view.  '  The  love  of  the  hills  is  indi- 
cated by  such  little  pictures  as 

"Robin  sat  on  a  gude  grene  hill, 
Keipand  a  flock  of  fie."  2 
or, 

"Lord  Thomas  and  fair  Annet 
Sate    a'  day  on  a  hill, 
When  night  was  cum  and  sun  was  sett 
They  had  not  talkt  their  fill."  3 

But  it  is  the  forest  that  most  often  appears. 

"  Until    thev  came  to  the  merry  green  wood, 
Where  they  had  gladdest  bee,"-* 

gives  the  fresh,  open-air  setting  of  most  of  these  tales  of  love 
and  heroism; 

'  See  Child  of  Elle,  Edom  o'  Gordon,  Hardyknute,  and  others. 

^  Robin  and  Makyne. 

3  Lord  Thomas  and  Fair  Annet. 

^  Robin  Hood  and  Guv  of  Gisborne. 


142  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

Mery  it  was  in  the  grene  forest 
Amonge  the  leves  grene  ;"' 

"  All  in  the  merrye  month  of  May, 
When  greene  buds  they  were  swellin;"^ 

"  And  wee'll  away  to  the  greene  forest ; "  ^ 

"  Gil  Morice  sate  in  gude  grene  wode, 
He  whistled  and  he  sang  ;  "  '■ 

"  In  summer  time  when  leaves  grow  greene, 
And  blossoms  bedecke  the  tree;"  ^ 

"  To  the  greene  forest  so  pleasant  and  faire;"* 

"  He  myght  have  dwelt  in  grene  foreste, 
Under  the  shadowes  greene;"'' 

"  The  woodweele  sang,  and  wold  not  cease. 
Sitting  upon  the  spraye, 
Soe  lowde,  he  wakened  Robin  Hood 
In  the  greenwood  where  he  lay  ;"^ 

are  typical   forest  pictures.'     But   the   gude   green  wood  is  not 
always    fresh    and   blooming,  as    we    see   from   occasional    lines 

such  as 

"  Now  loud  and  shrill  blew  the  westlin'  wind, 
"  Sair  beat  the  heavy  shower;" '° 

"  About  Yule  quhen  the  wind  blew  cule;"" 

"  Oft  have  I  ridden  thro   Stirling  town 
In  the  wind  both  and  the  weit;"" 

"  No  shimmering  sun  here  ever  shone; 
No  halesome  breeze  here  ever  blew;"'^ 

Trees  are  not  often  mentioned   individually  except  the  oak 
and  the  willow,  the  latter  always  representing  sorrow. 

'  Adam  Bell.  ^  Barbara  Allan's  Cruelty. 

3  The  Marriage  of  SirGawaine.  ^  Gil  Morice. 

5  King  Edward  IV  and  Tanner  of  Tamworth. 

*  The  King  and  the  Miller  of  Mansfield. 

7  Adam  Bell.  ^  Robin  Hood  and  Guy  of  Gisborne. 

9  For  the  Forest  in  Mediceval  poetry  see  Vernon  Lee,  Euphorion,  p.  122. 

'"  Hardyknute.  "  Young  Waters.  '-  The  Heir  of  Linne. 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY  143 


;?^^L  b:f  ^^"'^ 


'    ^  OF   THI' 

UNIVZR 


^F 


CA  L  ,  r 


There  is  occasional  use  of  nature  in  simple  comparisons,  as, 
"  White  as  evir  the  snaw  lay  on  the  dike,"  "  drye  as  a  clot  of 
claye,"  "light  of  foot  as  stag  that  runs  in  forest  wild,"  his 
"een  like  gray  gosehawk's  stair'd  wyld." 

There  are  also  some  homely  pictures  of  everyday  country 
life,  as  in  Take  Thy  Old  Cloak  About  Thee,  Plain  Truth  and  Bli'iia 
Ignorance  (Somersetshire  dialect).  The  Ew-Bughts  Marion,  and 
The  Auld  Good  Man. 

The  use  of  nature  in  the  Ballads,  slight  and  limited  as  it  is 
gives  an  impression  of  vivid  reality.  It  is  what  Schiller  would 
call  the  simple  as  opposed  to  the  sentimental  love  of  nature,  the 
first  being  characteristic  of  early  races  who  are  nature,  and  the 
last  of  the  moderns  who  seek  nature.'  On  eighteenth  century 
readers  who,  as  a  class,  knew  little  about  the  external  world  out- 
side their  parks  and  gardens,  the  effect  of  the  descriptive  touches 
in  the  Ballads  would  be  to  lead  them  into  lovely  regions  where 
nature  was  as  spontaneous  and  free  as  the  knights  and  fair  ladies 
themselves. 

Michael  Bruce  imitated  Milton's  Lycidas  in  an  Elegy  called 

Daphnis,  and   imitated   Gray  in  some  Punic  Odes,   which   were 

lauded  as   "  truly   Runic  and   truly  Grayan."     In 

Michael  Bruce    these  poems  the  use  of  nature  is  slight  and  conven- 

(1746-1767)         tional.      His  Lochleven  {i-]6())  is  more  significant. 

In  this  poem  he  celebrates 

"  The  pastoral  mountains,  the  poetic  streams  " 

of  his  native  land.     He  finds  all  nature  full  of  joy. 

"  The  vales,  the  vocal  hills, 
The  woods,  the  waters,  and  the  heart  of  man 
Send  out  a  general  song  ;  'tis  beauty  all 
To  poet's  eye  and  music  to  his  ear." 

Clouds  arrested  in  their  swift  course  by  lofty  mountains,  lakes 
that  hold  a  mirror  to  the  sky,  songsters  twittering  o'er  their 
young,  waters  glowing  beneath  western  clouds,  hoary-headed 
Grampius  clad  in  snow,  are  counted  among  his  pleasures.  He 
prefers  life  in  the  country,  for  there 

'  Schiller  :  "  Ueber  die  Naive  und  Sentimentale  Dichtung." 


144         TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  TOE  TRY 

"  All  in  the  sacred,  sweet,  sequestered  vale 
Of  solitude,  the  secret  primrose-path 
Of  rural  life,  he  dwells." 

He  loved  especially  the  Gairney,  a  stream  that  flows  into  Loch 
Leven,  because,  as  a  lad,  he  lay  on  its  banks  and  composed 
poetry.  He  speaks  with  evident  knowledge  of  other  streams, 
the  gulfy  Po,  "slow  and  silent  among  its  waving  reeds,"  and  the 
rapid  Oueech  rushing  impetuous  over  broken  steeps.  It  is  nat- 
ural that  Bruce  should  know,  as  he  did,  especially  water  birds. 
The  "wild-shrieking  gull,"  "  patient  heron,"  "  dull  bittern,"  the 
"  clamorous  mew,"  and  the  "  slow-wing'd  crane  "  moving  heavily 
along  the  shore,  were  doubtless  birds  that  he  had  often  seen. 
Bruce's  pleasure  in  wide  views  is  shown  by  this  poem,  Lochleven, 
for  it  is  a  description  of  the  prospect  spread  out  before  hiin  as 
he  stands  on  "  Mount  Lomond."  Bruce's  Elegy  was  written 
when  he  felt  himself  dying  of  consumption.  It  represents  his 
delight  in  all  forms  of  nature's  life  and  his  deep  melancholy  at 
bidding  farewell  to  the  springtime  world. 

By  a  process  of  selection  we  find  in  Bruce's  poems  his  real  love 
for  the  outer  world.  This  is  not,  however,  the  impression  made 
by  his  poems  as  a  whole.  His  knowledge  of  nature  was  limited, 
and  his  expression  was  often  rigid  and  formal.  He  died  young, 
before  he  had  really  attained  the  mastery  of  his  own  thought, 
and  his  importance  lies  not  so  much  in  actual  accomplishment  as 
in  scattered  suggestions  of  his  tendencies  and  possibilities. 

Bruce's  most  intimate  friend  was  John  Logan,  who,  in  1770, 
published  an  edition  of  Bruce's  poems  and  included  some  "  wrote 
by  other  authors."  In  1781,  when  he  published 
John  Logan  his  own  works,  he  laid  claim  to  a  number  of  the 
(1748-1788)  poems  that  had  appeared  in  the  edition  of  Bruce's 
poems  in  1770.  Among  these  the  most  important 
was  The  Cuckoo,^  a  poem  well  worth  the  sharp  controversy  waged 
over  it  by  the  respective  friends  of  the  two  authors.  There  is 
nothing  else  in  this  period  that  rings  so  fresh  and  clear  as  this 
little  ode.  One  stanza  may  be  quoted  to  illustrate  its  beauty, 
its  simplicity,  and  naturalness.     This  stanza  is    also  of  peculiar 

'  Tlie  poem  is  quoted  entire  by  Gosse  in  his  Eighteenth  Century  Literature. 


NATURE  J X  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTL'RY  145 

interest  because  it  so  definitely    foreshadows    Wordsworth's    To 
the  Cuckoo. 

"  The  schoolboy,  wandering  through  the  wood, 
To  pull  the  primrose  gav, 
Starts,  the  new  voice  of  spring  to  hear, 
And  imitates  thy  lay." 

Logan's  other  poems,  though  he  has  nothing  equal  to  the 
cuckoo  song  in  spontaneity  and  exquisite  simplicity,  are  yet  of 
real  value.  His  Braes  of  Yarrow  is  an  effective  presentation  of 
the  ancient,  sorrow-laden  Yarrow  motif.  As  is  fitting  in  a  ballad 
the  touches  of  description  are  of  the  briefest  sort,  but  the  forest, 
the  bonny  braes,  and  the  sounding  stream  are  felt  through  all  the 
plaintive  story.  Oss/a/i's  Hymn  to  the  Sun  is  a  poetical  para- 
phrase of  the  famous  apostrophe  in  Balclutha.  It  has  some  fine 
lines,  but  is  inferior  in  strength  to  the  original.  The  Ode  Writ- 
ten in  Spring  is  a  laudation  of  a  certain  fair  Maria  in  the  true 
classical  fashion,  but  the  new  note  is  struck  in  the  first  five 
stanzas  descriptive  of  spring. 

"  The  loosen'd  streamlet  loves  to  stray 
And  echo  down  the  dale," 

"  The  hills  uplift  their  summits  green," 

"  The  cuckoo  in  the  wood  unseen," 

"  At  eve  the  primrose  path  along, 
The  milkmaid  shortens  with  a  song, 
Her  solitary  way," 

"  The  sudden  fields  put  on  the  flowers," 
are  lines  showing  fresh  observation  and  easy,  natural  expression. 
Another  passage   characterizes  autumn  as  "  the  Sabbath  of  the 
year."     Limited  in   compass   as  is  Logan's   good  work   it  is   of 
value,  because  marked  by  exceptional  purity  and  sweetness. 

Most  of  James  Graeme's  poems  were  written  before  he 
was  twenty.     His  tastes  are  thus  referred  to  by  his  friend.  Dr. 

Robert  Anderson  :  "A  passion  for  romantic  fiction 

Tames  Graeme         iri-i  i_-^  jl,-  1 

•;  ,         and  fabulous  history,  appeared   in  him   very  early 

(1747-1772)  .       rr  .J 

in  life.  .....  Of  the  Gothic,  Celtic  and  Oriental 

mythology  he  was  a  warm   admirer  ;  and   frequently   attempted 


146  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

imitations  of  the  wild  and  flowery  fictions  of  the  northern  and 
eastern   nations.  .  .  .  Like    other   votaries    of  the 

Muses,  he  was  passionately  fond  of  rural  scenery,  and  delighted 
in  walking  alone  in  the  fields." 

His  chief  poems  of  nature  are  some  descriptive  elegies. 
Occasionally  there  is  a  fairly  good  line,  as 

"  The  torrents,  whiten'd  with  descending  rain," 

or 

"  The  blue-gray  mist  that  hovers  o'er  the  hill," 

showing  at  least  a  hint  of  first-hand  observation.  But  on  the 
whole  the  poems  are  a  composite  of  phrases  belonging  to  the 
typical  poetry  of  sentimental  melancholy.  His  characteristic 
attitude  towards  nature  is  shown  by  his  constant  preference  for 
chilly  midnight  when  howlets  scream  and  ravens  croak,  and  when 
he,  with  pensive  care,  tunes  the  voice  of  woe  and  sheds  "teary 
torrents  "  over  grass-green  graves.  One  poem,  on  Curling,  is, 
however,  quite  different  in  tone,  for  it  is  a  crudely  realistic  and 
technical  description  of  the  game  and  the  peasants  who  engage 
in  it. 

The  tastes  of  Graeme  and  his  attempts  are  of  more  signifi- 
cance than  his  actual  work,  which  is  of  little  value. 

The  bent  of  Goldsmith's  mind  was  towards  the  study  of   man 

in  social  relations.     His  use  of  nature  is  accessory  and  limited. 

In  TJie    Traveller  the  real  interest  is   in    manners 
Oliver  Goldsmith       ,         .  ,      ,,„  .         ...  .        ., 

.      and  customs.      When  the  pilgrim   is   in    the   Alps 
(1728-1774)  .  r    a  r 

with  a  wide  prospect  before  him,  it  is  the  thought 
of  man's  grand  heritage  that  impresses  him.  In  the  account  of 
Switzerland  there  is  only  a  vague  general  description  of  the 
country,  but  a  full,  sympathetic  description  of  the  peasant.  So, 
too,  in  Italy,  France,  Holland,  and  even  in  England.  In  the  few 
descriptions  that  do  occur  there  are  occasional  lines  indicative  of 
first-hand  observation,  as  in  this  picturesque  couplet  on  the 
scenery  in  Holland  : 

'  In  this  poem  about  16  per  cent,  of  the  lines  have  something  to  do  with 
nature.  In  Wordsworth's  Descriptive  Sketches  over  50  per  cent,  of  the  lines 
treat  of  nature. 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY  I47 

"  The  slow  canal,  the  yellow-blossomed  vale, 
The  willow-tufted  bank,  the  gliding  sail." 

We  also  find  effective  combinations  of  geographical  names  that 
give  a  certain  charm  of  remoteness  and  melody;  and  there  is  a 
sense  of  space  and  movement  conveved  by  the  rapidlv  presented 
and  wide  landscapes. 

In  The  Deserted  Village  the  central  thought  js  still  man,  and 
thp,^  purpose  dicjartir.  but  there  is  effective  though  not  abundant 
use  of  nature.  Even  here,  however,  it  is  only  nature  inseparably 
associated  with  man.  Nine  tenths  of  the  poem  has  to  do  directly 
with  human  nature.  The  other  tenth  merely  gives  charming 
pictures  of  the  country  close  about  a  village.  Scattered  lines  are 
of  perfect  workmanship,  as  that  one  descriptive  of  the  straggling 

fence, 

"With  blossomed  furze  unprofitably  gay," 
and 

"  The  breezy  covert  of  the  warbling  grove." 

In  the  picture  of  desolation  the  details  are  selected  with  deli- 
cacy and  precision.  Each  touch  helps  the  general  impression. 
The  value  of  such  work  becomes  more  apparent  when  put  into 
contrast  with  the  description  of  torrid  climes.  In  Goldsmith  and 
in  Thomson  what  was  seen  at  first-hand  had  the  grace  and  power 
of  truth,  but  scenes  in  remote  lands,  known  only  through  the  dis- 
torting spectacles  of  books,  were  credited  with  an  odd  mixture  of 
incongruous  details.  Except  for  one  use  of  mountains  in  a 
simile  there  is  no  indication  that  Goldsmith  knew  any  but  tame 
scenery. 

In  general  we  may  say  that  Goldsmith  showed  a  direct, 
simple-hearted  pleasure  in  the  open-air  world,  that  he  was 
sympathetic  observer  of  the  more  obvious  facts  of  nature,  and 
that  he  had  a  bright,  easy  way  of  recording  those  facts.  The  sim 
plicity  of  his  work  is  combined  with  a  quick  perception  of  artistic 
form.  But  he  has  hardly  a  touch  of  what  Matthew  Arnold  calls 
"  natural  magic,"  and  he  is  in  no  sense  a  revealer.  He  was  on 
the  surface  of  things.  Of  the  higher  ministrv  of  nature  to  man's 
spiritual  needs  he  knew  nothing.  In  his  prose  works  Goldsmith 
has  several  vigorous  attacks  on  falseness  and  affectation  in  poetry. 


148  l^REATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

In  1759  he  characterized  Italian  poetry  at  it  lowest  ebb,  as  "  no 
longer  an  imitation  of  what  we  see,  but  of  what  a  visionary  might 
wish.  The  zephyrs  breath  a  most  exquisite  perfume;  the  trees 
wear  eternal  verdure;  fauns,  dryads,  and  hamadryads  stand  ready 
to  fan  the  sultry -shepherdess  ....  who  is  so  simple  and  inno- 
cent as  often  to  have  no  meaning."  This  attack  on  the  falseness 
and  affectation  of  Italian  poetry  might  be  quoted  verbatim  by  a 
modern  critioof  the  popular  eighteenth  century  pastorals.  Gold- 
smith also  praised  Gay's  poems  saying  that  "  he  has  hit  upon  the 
true  spirit  of  pastoral  poetry."  Goldsmith  has  other  keen  criti- 
cal remarks  that  point  in  the  direction  of  the  new  spirit  but  they 
do  not  bear  directly  on  the  study  of  nature.  He  is  important 
chiefly  because  of  his  interest  injian  as  man,  his  close  and  sympa- 
thetic delineation  of  the  poor  and  ignorant. 

In  I  766  James  Beattie  had  written  150   lines  of    Tlie  Minstrel. 
The  poem  was  then  laid  aside  for  the  Essay  on   Truth  and  not 

taken  up  again  till  1770.     The  first  book  was  pub- 

^  James  Beattie    111  ,     •  t^,  ,   ,       , 

)    ^  « r —    lished    anonymously  in    1771.      Ihe   second  book 

Jy^  {1742-1803)  ■'  ■'  '  ' 

'^  appeared  with  the  author's   name   in    1774.     The 

poem  consists  of  122  Spenserian  stanzas.  Its  design  is  "  to  trace 
the  progress  of  a  poetical  genius  ....  till  that  period  when  he 
may  be  supposed  capable  of  appearing  in  the  world  as  a  minstrel,'" 
\  and  its  theme  is  really  the  effect  of  mountain  scenery  on  a  poet- 
ically sensitive  mind.  The  child,  Edwin,  is  brought  up  in  a 
remote  village  among  the  Scotch  hills,  and  his  genius  is  devel- 
oped through  the  varied  influence  of  wild  natural  scenery  until  he 
becomes  "itinerant  poet  and  musician."  Asa  lad  his  chief  pleas- 
ure was  to  follow 

"  Where  the  maze  of  some  bewilder'd  stream 
To  deep  untrodden  groves  his  footsteps  led." 

He  loved  to  climb  craggy  cliffs 

"  When  all  in  mist  the  world  below  was  lost. 
What  dreadful  pleasure!     There  to  stand  sublime 
Like  shipwreck'd  mariner  on  desert  coast 
And  view  the  eno;  mous  waste  of  vapour,  toss'd 

'  The  Minstrel,  Preface. 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY  149 

In  billows,  lengthening  to  the  horizon  round, 

Now  scoop'd  in  gulfs,  with  mountains  now  emboss'd." 

And  oft  he  traced  the  uplands,  to  survey. 
When  o'er  the  sk)-  advanced  the  kindling  dawn, 
The  crimson  cloud,  blue  main  and   mountain  gray." 

He  was 

"  Fond  of  each  gentle,  and  each  dreadful  scene. 
In  darkness  and  in  storm  he  found  delight." 

He  listened 

"  with  pleasing  dread,  to  the  deep  roar 
Of  the  wide-weltering  waves." 

When  storms  came  up  in  black  array 

"He  hastened  from  the  haunt  of  man. 
Along  the  trembling  wilderness  to  stray." 

He  visited  haunted  streams  by  moonlight  and  let  his  imagina- 
tion dwell  on  graves  and  ghosts.  His  soul  was  possessed  by  the 
"mystic  transports  "  born  of  "melancholy  and  solitude."  He 
scanned  all  nature  with  a  "curious  and  romantic  eye,"  and  his 
imagination  was  stirred  by  '  old  heroic  ditties,'  by 

"  What'er  of  lore  tradition  could  supply 
From  gothic  tale,  or  song,  or  fable  old." 

The  second  stage  of  Edwin's  education  comes  through  his  com- 
panionship with  a  wise  hermit,  who,  like  Wordsworth's  Solitary, 
had  "  sought  for  glory  in  the  paths  of  guile,"  but  finally,  dissat- 
isfied with  success  and  stung  with  remorse,  had  hidden  himself 
in  a  deep  retired  abode  in  the  mountains,  there  to  commune  with 
nature.  From  a  lofty  eminence  Edwin  chanced  to  look  down 
one  day  upon  this  savage  dell,  shut  in  by  mountains  and  rocks 
piled  on  rocks  , and  he  saw  the  "one  cultivated  spot"  with  its 
garden  of  roses  and  herbs,  and  he  heard  the  voice  of  the  hermit 
soliloquizing  on  the  vanity  of  human  life.  In  subsequent  inter- 
views the  hermit  discoursed  learnedly  on  history,  art,  and  sciences. 
The  intrinsic  value  of  this  poem  is  not  great.  It  is  impor- 
tant because  of  the  conception  which  it  embodies.  Edwin  finds 
in  nature  adequate  instruction  and  inspiration;  the  hermit,  ade- 
quate consolation.     His  words  are, 


150  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

"  Hail,  awfvil  scenes,  that  calm  the  troubled  breast, 
And  woo  the  weary  to  profound  repose  ! 
Can  passion's  wildest  uproar  lay  to  rest. 
And  whisper  comfort  to  the  man  of  woes  !" 

Now  the  power  of  wild  scenery  over  the  plastic  mind  is  exactly 
Wordsworth's  idea  in  his  account  of  the  Wanderer's  youth,'  and 
the  power  of  nature  to  minister  to  a  mind  diseased  is  one  of  the 
leading  thoughts  in  his  account  of  the  Solitary,''  while  the 
thought  of  tracing  a  child's  experiences  with  nature  until  under 
her  tutelage  he  becomes  a  poet  is  the  fundamental  idea  of  the 
Prelude?  It  is  certainly  of  more  than  merely  curious  interest 
thus  to  find  in  the  rather  vague,  ineffective  stanzas  of  the  earlier 
V  poet  general  conceptions  which  afterwards  appear  as  the  ruling 
^yO,  ideas  of  the  poet  confessedly  greatest  in  his  treatment  of  nature. 

The  character  of  Edwin  was  autobiographic  and  shows  Beat- 
tie's  personal  love  of  nature.  In  a  letter  to  the  Dowager  Lady 
Forbes,  October,  1772,  he  wrote: 

"  I  find  you  are  willing  to  suppose  that,  in  Edwin,  I  have 
given  only  a  picture  of  myself  as  I  \vas  in  my  younger  days.  I 
confess  the  supposition  is  not  groundless.  I  have  made  him 
take  pleasure  in  the  scenes  in  which  I  took  pleasure,  and  enter- 
tain sentiments  similar  to  those  of  which,  even  in  my  early 
youth,  I  had  repeated  experience.  The  scenery  of  a  mountainous 
country,  the  ocean,  the  sky,  thoughtfulness  and  retirement,  and 
sometimes  melancholy  objects  and  ideas,  had  charms  in  my  eyes, 
even  when  I  was  a  schoolboy  :  and  at  a  time  when  I  was  so  far 
from  being  able  to  express,  that  I  did  not  understand  my  own 
feelings,  or  perceive  the  tendency  of  my  own  pursuits  and 
amusements." 

Beattie  never  lost  this  keen  delight  in  nature.  When  he  was 
schoolmaster  at  Fordoun,  at  the  foot  of  the  Grampian  Hills,  his 
greatest  pleasure  was  found  in  the  neighboring  mountains  and 
wooded  glens.  His  biographer  also  says  that  he  would  fre- 
quently "  pass  the  whole  night  among  the  fields,  gazing  on  the 

'Wordsworth  :  The  Excursion,  i  :  11.  108-300. 
^Wordsworth:  The  Excursion,  4  :  11.  466-600. 
3  Wordsworth:  The  Prelude,  "  Advertisement."' 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY  151 

sky,  and  observing  the  various  aspects  it  assumed  till  the  return 
of  day."  Beattie's  poems  bear  conclusive  evidence  of  his  love 
of  nature  in  all  her  forms.  Mountains,  and  the  sea,  wild  scenes 
of  various  sorts,  storms,  torrents,  night,  clouds,  the  sky,  streams, 
meadows,  groves,  summer  and  winter,  wide  views,  are  regarded 
with  genuine  delight.  But  there  are  certain  curious  limitations. 
There  are  almost  no  specific  flowers,  birds,  or  trees  mentioned  in  ^ 
all  this  abundant  study  of  the  external  world.  This  use  of  the  gen-  ' 
eral  instead  of  the  specific  is  one  element  of  an  effect  too  often 
perceived,  an  indefiniteness  of  outline,  a  vague  blurring  of 
edges,  the  result  of  which  is  not  mysterious  suggestiveness  but 
simply  dimness  and  confusion.  There  is  also  an  unexpected 
feebleness  of  vocabulary  and  lack  of  direct  observation.  The 
old  word  "  murmur,"  for  instance,  is  applied  with  wearisome 
insistence  to  springs,  rills,  water,  the  ocean,  pines,  woods,  groves, 
and  gales.  So  the  interest  in  wild  nature,  when  analyzed,  shows 
a  rather  monotonous  and  undiscriminating  succession  of  cliffs 
and  precipices.  But  it  would  be  unfair  to  press  these  limitations 
too  far.  There  are  many  true  observations  happily  presented,  as 
in  the  following  lines  which  are  selected  as  illustrative  : 
"While  waters,  woods,  and  winds  in  concert  join." 
"The  wild  brook  babbling  down  the  mountain  side." 

"  Torrents 
Heard  from  afar  amid  the  lonely  night." 
"  And  now  the  storm  of  summer  rain  is  over 
And  cool  and  fresh  and  fragrant  is  the  sky." 

"When  by  the  winds  of  autumn  driven 
The  scatter'd  clouds  fly  'cross  the  Heaven. 
Oft  have  we  from  some  mountain's  head 
Beheld  the  alternate  light  and  shade 
Sweep  along  the  vale." 

"  The  scared  owl  on  pinions  gray 
Breaks  from  the  rustling  boughs 
And  down  the  lone  vale  sails  away 
To  more  profound  repose." 

He  finds  pleasure  in  old  oak   trees  that 

"  from  the  stormy  promontory  tower 


1 5  2  TREA  TAIENT  OF  NA  TURE  IN  ENGLISH  POE  TR  Y 

And  toss  their  giant  arms  amid  the  skies." 

In  winter  he  watches 

"  The  cloud  stupendous,  from  the  Atlantic  wave 
High  towering,  sail  along  the  horizon  blue." 

Lines  such  as  these  show  knowledge  both  fresh  and  close,  and 
the  expression  is  marked  by  picturesque  effectiveness. 

But  Beattie's  real  contribution  to  the  study  of  nature  lies,  as 
has  been  indicated,  in  his  own  personal  enthusiasm,  and  his 
steadfast  belief  in  the  effect  of  nature  on  man.  In  one  stanza 
he  even  set  forth  the  doctrine,  held  to  be  sufficiently  startling 
forty  years  later  in  Wordsworth's  day,  that  country  rustics  from 
their  familiarity  with  nature,  gain  a  nicer  sense  of  moral  purity 
than  is  known  among  the  poor  of  a  city.'  Upon  all  men  he 
urged  the  study  of  nature  as  a  nioral  duty. 

"These    charms  shall  work  thy  soul's  eternal  health, 
And  love,  and  gentleness,  and  joy  impart."^ 

The  message  of  nature  is  one  not  to  be  ignored. 

"  O  how  canst  thou  renounce  the  boundless  store 
Of  charms  which  Nature  to  her  votary  yields  ! 
The  warbling  woodland,  the  resounding  shore. 
The  pomp  of  groves,  and  garniture  of  fields  ; 
All  that  the  genial  ray  of  morning  gilds. 
And  all  that  echoes  to  the  song  of  even. 
All  that  the  mountain's  sheltering  bosom  shields. 
And  all  the  dread  magnificence  of  Heaven, 
O  how  canst  thou  renounce  and  hope  to  be  forgiven  !"3 

'  The  Minstrel,  I  :  52.  2  The  Minstrel,  1:10. 

3  The  Minstrel,  1 :9. 

Of  this  stanza  Gray  said  in  a  letter  to  Beattie,  March,  1771, 

"  But  this,  of  all  others,  is  my  favorite  stanza.  It  is  true  poetry;  it  is  inspira- 
tion ;  only  (to  show  it  is  mortal)  there  is  one  blemish ;  the  word  garniture  sug- 
gesting an  idea  of  dress,  and,  what  is  worse,  of  French  dress."  Beattie  said 
he  had  often  wished  "  to  alter  this  same  word,  but  had  not  been  able  to  hit 
upon  a  better."  Dyce's  Memoir  of  Beattie,  p.  xxxvii. 

Gray's  praise  of  Beattie  was  faint  compared  to  Beattie's  admiration  of  Gray. 
In  1765  he  declared  that  he  had  "long  and  passionately  admired  "Gray's 
writings.  He  thought  Gray's  poems  finer  than  those  of  his  contemporaries  in 
any  nation.  He  thought  his  taste  most  exact,  his  judgment  most  sound,  and 
his  learning  most  extensive.     See  Dyce's  Memoir  of  Beattie,  p.  xvi.  and  p.  xviii. 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  IN  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY  153 

Though  less  popular  than  the  Essay  on  TriifJi,  Beattie's  Min- 
strel met  with  almost  immediate  favor.  Lyttleton  said  to  Mrs. 
Montagu  who  sent  him  the  first  book  in  1771  : 

"I  read  your  'Minstrel'  last  night,  with  as  much  rapture  as 
poetry,  in  her  noblest,  sweetest  charms,  ever  raised  in  my  soul.  It 
seemed  to  me  that  my  once  most  beloved  minstrel,  Thomson,  was 
come  down  from  heaven,  refined  by  the  converse  of  purer  spirits 
than  those  he  lived  with  here,  to  let  me  hear  him  sing  again  the 
beauties  of  virtue.'" 

And  Cowper  wrote  in  1784  : 

"Though  I  cannot  afford  to  deal  largely  in  so  expensive  a 
commodity  as  books,  I  must  afford  to  purchase  at  least  the  poet- 
ical works  of  Beattie."= 

Mr.  Dyce  says  that  the  success  of   The  Minstrel  (Book  First)   \ 
"was  complete.     The  voice  of  every  critic  was  loud  in  its  praise; 
and  before  the  second  book  appeared,  four  editions  of  the  first 
had  been  dispersed  throughout  the  kingdom."' 

The  Minstrel  is  of  importance  in  the  historical  development 
of  the  poetry  of  nature  because  of  the  ideas  it  emphasizes,  and 
its  immediate  popularity  is  an  indication   of  the  change  in  taste  y 
since  the  beginning  of  the  century. 

Most  of  John  Scott's  poems  were  on  rural  subjects,''  and  he 
is  of  especial  interest  because  of  his  abundant  and  close  observa- 
tion of  natural  facts.  Mr.  Hoole  says  of  him,  "He 
John  Scott  ^y^g  certainly  no  servile  copyist  of  the  thoughts  of 
U730  17  3;  others;  for,  living  in  the  country,  and  being  a  close 
and  accurate  observer,  he  painted  what  he  saw  ;  "  and  again,  "  He 

'Dyce  :  Memoir  of  Beattie,  p.  xxxvi. 

^Cowper:  Letter  to  Rev.  William  Unwin,  April,  1784. 

3  Dyce  :  Memoir  of  Beattie,  p.  xxxv. 

♦His  chief  poems  are:  Four  Moral  Eclogues  (1773);  four  Elegies  (pub. 
1760  but  written  earlier);  Amwell,  A  Descriptive  Poem  (pub.  1776  but  written 
1768)  ;  and  Odes  and  Amoeba?an  Eclogues  (1782).  His  Epistle  on  the  Garden 
and  Essay  on  Painting  will  be  spoken  of  later. 

It  is  interesting  to  note  the  spirit  of  apology  with  which  Scott's  friends  and 
admirers  comment  on  his  choice  of  subjects.  In  such  poetry  there  is  little  oppor- 
tunity for  genius,  for,  says  Mr.  Hoole,  "A  hill,  a  vale,  a  forest,  a  rivulet,  a  cat- 
aract, can  be  described  only  by  general  terms;  the  hill  must  swell,  the  vale  sink. 


1 5  4  TREA  TMENT  OF  NA  TURE  IN  ENGLISH  FOE  TR  Y 

cultivated  the  knowledge  of  natural  history  and  botany,  which 
enabled  him  to  preserve  the  truth  of  nature  with  many  discrimi- 
nating touches,  perhaps  not  excelled  by  any  descriptive  poet  since 
the  days  of  Thomson."  It  was  Scott's  avowed  purpose  to  enrich 
poetry  by  the  use  of  many  natural  facts  not  before  observed.  In 
the  introduction  to  the  AnKebcean  Eclogues  he  said,  "  Much  of  the 
rural  imagery  which  our  country  affords,  has  already  been  intro- 
duced in  poetry,  but  many  obvious  and  pleasing  appearances  seem 
to  have  totally  escaped  notice.  To  describe  these  is  the  business  of 
the  following  Eclogues."  After  this  explicit  announcement,  two 
gentle  youths,  in  responsive  verse,  call  attention  to  over  two  hun- 
dred rapidly  stated  natural  facts.  A  fact  to  a  line  is  about  the 
average,  as  in  these  lines  : 

"  These  pollard  oaks  their  tawny  leaves  retain, 
These  hardy  hornbeams  yet  unstripped  remain  ; 
The  wint'ry  groves  all  else  admit  the  view 
Through  naked  stems  of  many  a  varied  hue." 

"Old  oaken  stubs  tough  saplings  there  adorn."' 

"  Straight  shoots  of  ash  with  bark  of  glossy  gray, 
Red  cornel  twigs,  and  maple's  russet  spray." 

"  There  scabious  blue,  and  purple  knapweed  rise. 
And  weld  and  yarrow  show  their  various  dyes." 

"  In  shady  lanes  red  foxglove  bells  appear 
And  golden  spikes  the  downy  muUens  rear." 

The  second  of  these  Eclogues  has  to  do  with  the  care  of  farms 
and  is  as  minute  as  Cowper's  treatise  on  the  cucunjber.  There  is 
nowhere  in  these  poems  any  poetical  fusion  of  facts.  They  read 
rather  like  the  notebooks  of  a  professional  observer.  Yet  it  is 
certainly   significant  to  find  at  this  date  so  persistent  and  sys- 

the  rivulet  murmur,  and  the  cataract  foam."     Mr.  Hoole  recognizes  the  "slight 
estimation  "  in  which  descriptive  poetry  is  commonly  held,  but  thinks  there  are 
devices  to  render  it  attractive  and  calls  attention  to  the  skill  with  which  Mr. 
Scott  has  made  his  poems  "  interesting  by  the  introduction  of  historical  inci 
dents,  apt  allusions,  and  moral  reflections." 

'At  this  line  Mr.  Hoole's  admiration  broke  down.  He  could  only  regret 
hat  Mr.  Scott's  desire  for  novelty  had  led  him  to  admit  such  circumstances  as 
no  versification  can  make  poetical. 


NATURE  IX  POETRY  IN  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY   155 

tematic  a  search  for  natural  facts,  and  that  not  in  the  service 
of  science  but  of  poetry.  In  Amwell  Scott  calls  on  the  Muse  of 
Thomson,  Dyer,  and  Shenstone  for  his  inspiration.  The  poem  is 
a  description  of  the  prospect  from  a  certain  "airy  height"  near 
Amwell.  A  single  illustration  will  show  the  minute  observation 
and  catalogue  style  in  this  commemoration  of  "  lonely  sylvan 
scenes." 

"  How  picturesque 
The  slender  group  of  airy  elm,  the  clump 
Of  pollard  oak,  or  ash,  with   ivy  brown 
Entwin'd  ;  the  walnut's  gloomy  breadth  of  boughs, 
The  orchard's  ancient  fence  of  rugged  pales, 
The  haystack's  dusty  cone,  the  moss-grown  shed, 
The  clay-built  barn  ;  the  elder-shaded  cot, 
Whose  whitewashed  gable  prominent  through  green 
Of  waving  branches  shows  ;        .  . 

the  wall  with  mantling  vines 
O'erspread,  the  porch  with  climbing  woodbine  wreath'd, 
And  under  sheltering  eves  the  sunny  bench 
Where  brown  hives  range,  whose  busy  tenants  fill 
With  drowsy  hum  the  little  garden  gay, 
Whence  blooming  beans,  and  spicy  herbs,  and  flowers, 
Exhale  around  a  rich  perfume!     Here  rests 
The  empty  wain  ;  there  idle  lies  the  plough." 

There  is  a  pleasant  homely  grace  in  these  lines  about  the  cot- 
tage, worth  more  than  all  the  historical  episodes  "introduced  to 
secure  interest."  In  the  Elegies  and  Odes  there  is  no  use  of  nature 
different  from  that  observed  in  the  other  poems,  unless,  indeed, 
mention  should  be  made  of  Scott's  belief  that  nature  gives  her 
fairest  smiles  to  those  "  who  know  a  Saviour's  love."  One  further 
characteristic  is  to  be  found  in  a  large  number  of  the  poems,  and 
that  is  enjoyment  of  a  wide  view.  He  describes  views  as  seen 
from  "  Musla's  corn-clad  heights,"  from  "  Grove  Hill,"  the  cliff 
at  Bath,  from  "  Chadwell's  cliffs,"  from  "Widbury's  prospect- 
yielding  hill,"  from  "Upton's  elm-divided  plains,"  from  "  Clif- 
ton's rock,"  from  Amwell,  and  other  spots.  The  poems  read  as 
if  he  had  spent  manv  days  climbing  hills  and  prospecting  for 
views. 


1 5  6         TREA  TMENT  OF  NA  TL  'RE  IN  ENGLISH  FOE  TR  Y 

William  Blake's  Poetical  Sketches,  published  in  1783,  were 
written  between  1 769  and  1777.'    The  Songs  of  Innocence  appeared 

in  1788-9  ;   Book  of  Thel,   1789  ;    The  Marriage  of 

William  Blake     rr  j     tt  n  '  jo  x   t^    j.     ■ 

Heaven  and  nelL  1790;  and  Soncs  of  Experience 
(1757-1827)  '     /y    5  ^      J         1 

in  1794.  In  the  first  volume  nature  was  the  lead- 
ing subject  ;  in  the  next  human  interests  were  in  the  ascendant, 
and  nature  was  used  oijly  in  fresh,  ballad-like  touches.  In  the 
later  work  nature  is  slightly  used  and  for  the  most  part  in  the 
form  of  myst?''"^i  cy|yi]-,Mi;i:nai 

It  was  Blake's  theory  that  man  is  "  imprisoned  in  his  five 
senses,"  and  he  counted  it  his  mission  to  reveal  to  closed  eyes 
the  spiritual  as  the  only  real  fact  of  existence.  In  his  early  work 
this  theory,  as  yet  unexaggerated  in  application,  led  to  a  treat- 
ment of  nature,  not  untrue  to  facts,  but  characterized  especially 
by  qualities  of  simplicity  and  vision  such  as  are  not  found  again 
before  Wordsworth.  In  these  years  of  his  youth  Blake  was  essen- 
tially the  poet  of  childhood  and  spring  in  all  their  sweet  potent, 
indefinable  charm. 

"  And   I   made  a  rural  pen, 

And  I  stained  the  water  clear, 
And   I   wrote  my  happy  songs, 
Every  child  may  joy  to  hear,"- 

gives  the  keynote  to  these  songs  of  delight.  The  joy  of  nature 
is  everywhere  insisted  on.  The  sun  makes  the  skv  happy  ;  the 
vales  rejoice  ;  spring  cannot  hide  its  joy  when  buds  and  blos- 
soms come ;  the  happv  blossoms  look  on  merry  birds ;  groves 
are  happy  and  greenwoods  rejoice;  dimpling  streams,  the  air, 
green  hills,  meadows,  and  birds  laugh  with  delight.  Here  is  one 
exquisite  example  : 

"  The  moon  like  a  flower 
In  heaven's  high  bower, 
With  silent  delight, 
Sits  and  smiles  on  the  night."  ^ 

He  contrasts  the  clamour  and  destruction  of  city  streets  with 

'  See  "  Advertisement  "  to  Poetical  Sketches. 
2"  Introduction  "  to  Songs  of  Innocence. 
3  Night. 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  IN  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY  157 

the  true  joy  in  nature.  In  the  silent  woods,  "Delights  blossom 
around.  Numberless  beauties  blow.  The  green  grass  spring,  in 
joy,  and  the  nimble  air  kisses  the  leaves.  The  brook  stretches  its 
arms  along  the  silent  meadow  ;  its  silver  inhabitants  sport  and 
play.     The  youthful  sun  joys  like  a  hunter  roused  to  the  chase.'" 

Blake  cared  much  for  sleep  as  the  time  when  man  was  most 
free  from  the  tvranny  of  the  senses.  Many  of  his  characters  are  '^= 
represented  as  asleep,  and  the  conception  is  transferred  to  many 
lovely  scenes  in  nature.  He  pictures  summer  as  sleeping  beneath 
oaks;  flowers  shut  their  eyes  in  sleep;  the  west  wind  sleeps  on 
the  lake  ;  and  dawn  sleeps  in  heaven.  With  this  is  associated  an --^ 
evident  pleasure  in  the  silence  of  nature,  apparently  the  pathetic 
complement  of  its  joys.  There  is  a  silent  sleep  over  the  deep  of 
heaven  ;  the  evening  star  speaks  silence  to  the  lake.  At  night 
the  moon  is  silent,  and  the  earth,  and  the  sea. 

Occasional  passages  show  the  character  of  Blake's  own  love 

of  nature,  as, 

"  I  love  to  rise  on  a  summer  morn," 

"  I  love  the  laughing  vale," 

"  I  love  the  echoing  hill." 

His  feeling  towards  flowers  was  as  intimate,  as  tenderly  protect- 
ing, as  was  that  of  Burns  towards  small  animals.  Sun  and  stars, 
winds,  clouds,  dew,  and  angels  are  represented  as  caring  for  the 
happy  blossoms. 

All  of  Blake's  poetry  of  nature  is  as  freshly  beautiful  as  the 
dewy  mornings,  the  springtime  green,  the  shining  skies,  as 
clear  and  transparent  as  the  limpid,  dimpling  streams  he  loved. 
There  are  also  frequent  passages  that  beside  their  metrical  flow 
and  exquisite  charm  of  external  suggestion  seem  to  reveal  the 
essential  spirit  of  the  object  described.  One  of  the  loveliest 
examples  is  the  word  of  the  Lily  of  the  Valley. 

"  I  am  a  watry  weed, 
And  I  am  very  small  and  love  to  dwell  in  lowly  vales  : 
So  weak  the  gilded  butterfly  scarce  perches  on  my  head.  / 

Yet  I  am  visited  from  heaven  ;  and  He  that  smiles  on  all 
Walks  in  the  valley,  and  each  morn  over  me  spreads  his  hand. 

'Contemplation. 


1 5  8         TREA  TMENT  OE  NA  TURE  IN  ENGLISH  FOE  TR  Y 

Saying,  Rejoice,  thou  humble  grass,  thou  new-born  lilly  flower, 
Thou  gentle  maid  of  silent  valleys  and  of  modest  brooks  ; 
For  thou  shah  be  clothed  in  light  and  fed  with  morning  manna."' 

For  fine  contrasts,  each  poem  perfect  of  its  kind,  see  The  Lamb 
and  The  Tiger.  The  modest  simplicity  of  the  one  is  as  ade- 
quately portrayed  as  the  dread  magnificence  of  the  other.  There 
is  no  description.  There  is  interpretation  of  the  most  penetrat- 
ing sort. 

He  has  also  frequent  similes  worked  out  with  picturesque 
detail,  as  in  this  one  from  The  Couch  of  Death  : 

"  He  was  like  a  cloud  tossed  by  ttje  winds,  till  the  sun  shine, 
and  the  drops  of  rain  glisten,  the  yelloA^  harvest  breathes,  and  the 
thankful  eyes  of  villagers  are  turned  up  in  smiles ;  the  traveller 
that  hath  taken  shelter  under  an  oak,  eyes  the  distant  country 
with  joy." 

\~^  I  One  secret  of  the   effectiveness  of  Blake's  best  work  is  his 

recognition  of  the  unity  of  all  existence.  The  prefatory  stanza 
to  Auguries  of  Innocence, 

"  To  see  a  world  in  a  grain  of  sand, 
And  a  heaven  in  a  wild  flower  ; 
Hold  infinity  in  the  palm  of  your  hand, 
And   eternity  in  an  hour," 

is  a  brief  poetic  statement  of  the  creed  afterwards  elaborated  in 
Wordsworth's  Primrose  on  the  Rock  and  Tennyson's  Flower  in 
the  Crannied  Wall.  The.  thought  back  of  the  lines  is  the  one  in 
Wordsworth's  mind  when  he  looked  on  "the  meanest  flower  that 
blows."-^  It  is  this  underlying  consciousness  of  essential  spiritual 
unity  in  all  existence  that  gives  to  the  work  of  both  Blake  and 
Wordsworth  its  subtle  power. 

There  could  hardly  be  two  more  dissimilar  ways  of  approach- 
ing nature  than  those  of  John  Scott  and  William  Blake.  They 
stand  at  opposite  poles,  the  one  with  no  sense  of  unity,  no  power 
of  poetic  fusion  or  interpretation,  but  with  a  wide,  accurate,  and 
often  picturesque  assemblage  of  natural  facts ;  the  other  with  a 
prevailing  tone  of  unreality  and  mysticism,  a  fine  scorn  of  the 
actual,  but  with  a  swift  recognition  of   the  spirit  of  nature,  and 

'Book  of  'I'liel. 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  IN  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY  159 

an  abiding  sense  of  cosmic  unity.  Vet  each  represents  a  charac- 
teristic phase  of  the  new  feeling  for  nature  as  seen  in  Words- 
worth. On  the  one  hand,  the  practised  eye  and  the  inevitable 
ear;  on  the  other,  the  vision  and  the  faculty  divine. 

In  its  significance  as  a  prophecy  of  Wordsworth  and  Shelley 
the  early  poetry  of  William  Blake  is  of  especial  importance. 

Crabbe's  poetry  falls  into  two  periods,  the  first  one  closing 

with    The  Newspaper  in    1785,  and  the  second  beginning  with 

The  Parish  Register  after  an  interval  of  twenty-two 

George  Crabbe    years.      In   the   first   of  these  periods  we   find   but 

1 7 '14-1832)  t;^o^hf     imp    nf    pvtprnnl     nnture.        The    occasional 

similitudes  are  of  a  formal  conventional  type.  The 
two  longest  descriptive  passages  are  of  a  dismal  winter  scene,' 
and  of  some  sterile  summer  fields  that  mock  man's  need  with 
profitless  blooms.''  There  is  no  expression  of  pleasure  in  nature. 
It  is  her  piHlpgg  anti-human  aspects  that  Oabbe  sees.  The 
charm  of  nature  independent  of  utility  seems  to  have  no  meaning 
for  him.      He  consciously  repudiates 

"  Clear  skies,  clear  streams,  soft  banks,  and  sober  bowers, 
Deer,  whimpering  brooks,  and  wind-perfuming  flowers," 

as  unworthy  poetic  material. ^  Rough  or  barren  nature  as  the 
background  or  occasion  of  man's  misery  is  the  thought  of  these 
early  poems. 

Crabbe's  second  period  does  not  properly  belong  in  a  study 
of  development  which  has  The  Lyrieal  BaUads  as  its  terminus 
ad  quern,  but  it  may  be  briefly  spoken  of  here  because  of  the 
interesting  contrast  it  offers  to  the  first  period.  A  suggestive 
study  might  be  made  of  the  descriptive  element  in  The  Village 
(1783)  as  compared  with  that  of  TJie  Borough  (1810).  The 
scene  of  each  is  a  seaside  village  on  the  Suffolk  coast,  but  we 
note  many  changes  in  the  presentation.  In  the  first  place,  in 
The  Borough  nature  plays  a  nmch  more  important  part  than  in 
The  Village.  There  is  a  leisurely  elaborateness  of  description  as 
if  the  poet  enjoyed  the  work  for  its  own  sake.  There  is,  to  be 
sure,  insistence  on  the  ugly  realistic  details  of  the  scenes  about  a 

■  Inebriety.  ^The  Village.  3  The  Choice. 


l6o         TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

country  town,  but  there  is  in  addition  a  recognition  that  even 
along  this  rocky  coast  and  in  these  barren  fields  where  nature 
defies  man's  industry  there  may  be  found  her  gift  of  beauty. 
The  "  greedy  ocean  "  of  The  Village  is  now  "a  glorious  page  of 
nature's  book"  on  which  the  poorest  may  gaze  with  delight. 
The  firm,  fair  sands  on  quiet  summer  evenings,  the  lovely 
"  limpid  blue  and  evanescent  green  "  as  shadows  run  over  the 
waves  on  a  fresh  day,  serene  winter-views  where  strange  effects  of 
fog  add  mystery  to  the  scene,  the  majesty  of  a  storm  at  sea  —  all 
these  are  now  reckoned  a  part  of  the  pleasures  of  the  poor  in  a 
seaside  village.  The  sterile  fields,  too,  have  rare  blossoms  and 
curious  grasses.  There  are  pleasant  walks  with  every  scene  rich 
in  beauty.  The  evening  twilight  is  sweet  with  jasmine  odors.' 
The  Borough  is  as  realistic  as  The  Village,  but  it  has  a  broader 
outlook  and  depicts  the  attractive  as  well  as  the  forbidding 
aspects  of  the  Suffolk  coast  near  Aldborough.  In  later  poems  the 
scope  becomes  still  wider.  Besides  the  frequent  strong  and 
truthful  ocean  pictures  there  are  some  beautiful  descriptions  of 
autumn  days,  moonlight  nights,  and  soft,  rich  inland  scenes.  It 
is  especially  noteworthy  that  though  there  are  seldom  any  gay  or 
bright  aspects  of  nature  presented,  yet  nature  is  no  longer  repre- 
sented as  a  force  inimical  to  man.  On  the  contrary,  there  is 
something  in  even  her  most  useless  forms  that  gives  to  man  a 
strangely  profound  pleasure.  The  simple  music  of  a  cascade  has 
in  it  a  soothing  power  that  words  will  not  express.  In  the  clear, 
silent  night  there  is  a  quiet  joy  that  lessens  the  sting  of  mortal 
pain.  These  positive  expressions  of  pleasure  in  nature  are  not 
numerous,  but  they  are  important  as  marking  a  distinct  change  of 
tone.  They  are  the  more  significant  because  they  occur  chiefly 
in  the  poems  after  i_8i9. 

Yet  it  must  not  pass  unnoticed  that  what  Crabbe  wrote  in 
these  late  poems,  he  had  perceived  and  felt  in  his  youth.  In 
his  description  of  Richard  he  gives  an  account  of  his  own  boy- 
hood.    Of  the  ocean  he  says, 

"  I  loved  to  walk  where  none  had  walked  before, 
About  the  rock  that  ran  alony^  the  shore. 
'The  BorouLfh  :  especially  Letters  i  and  g. 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  IN  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY  l6l 

Here  had  I  favorite  stations,  where  I  stood 
And  heard  the  murmurs  of  the  ocean  flood, 
With  not  a  sound  beside,  except  when  flew 
Aloft  the  lapwing,  or  the  gray  curlew. 

Pleasant  it  was  to  view  the  sea-gulls  strive 
Against  the  storm,  or  in  the  ocean  dive 
With  eager  scream,  or  when  they  dropping  gave 
Their  closing  wings  to  sail  upon  the  wave. 

Nor  pleased  it  less  around  me  to  behold 
Far  up  the  beach  the  yesty  sea-foam  rolled; 
Or  from  the  shore  upborne,  to  see  on  high 
Its  frothy  flakes  in  wild  confusion  fly: 
While  the  salt  spray  that  clashing  billows  form 
Gave  to  the  taste  a  feeling  of  the  storm." ' 

He  recalls  how  he  explored  every  creek  and  bay,  how  he  took  long 
walks  over  the  hilly  heath  and  mossy  moors.  Most  of  the  scenery  in 
The  Borough  as  well  as  that  in  The  Village  is  a  memory  picture  of 
the  country  he  knew  so  well  in  boyhood.  It  seems  strange  that  this 
genuine  love  and  accurate  knowledge  of  nature  should  not  have 
found  fuller  expression  in  his  early  poetry.  •  The  explanation  is 
perhaps  twofold.  His  interest  was  primarily  in  man.  He 
said  that  the  finest  scenes  in  nature  were  less  attractive  to  him 
than  faces  on  a  crowded  street.  He  meant  to  be  the  portrait 
painter  of  poor  people  as  he  had  seen  them  in  a  seaside  village. 
His  bitter  pictures  of  country  vice  and  ignorance  and  folly  had 
in  them  no  touch  of  patronage  or  contempt.  He  simply  gave  a 
hard,  truthful  representation  of  sordid  life,  and  nature  had  no 
meaning  for  him  except  as  it  is  brought  into  connection  with 
that  life.  When  in  after  years  his  own  lot  was  a  happier  one, 
and  when  a  wider  experience  had  brought  him  into  contact  with 
thrifty  country  folk,  the  bitterness  of  his  early  thought  of  man 
was  greatly  modified.  With  new  views  of  man  came  an  openness 
of  mind  to  the  gentler  aspects  of  nature.  The  real  love  of  his 
boyhood,  no  longer  crushed  down  by  an  overmastering  sense 
of  human  misery,  was  allowed  free  play.  Furthermore  his  later 
'  Tales  of  the  Hall,  Bk.  4. 


I  62  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

work  was  doubtless  influenced  by  the  new  spirit  of  poetry  about 
him.  His  son  says  that  while  at  first  but  a  cool  admirer  of  the 
Lake  poets,  he  came  soon  to  love  them  and  took  no  books 
oftener  in  his  hands.  All  of  Crabbe's  work  in  which  there  is 
much  use  of  nature  comes  more  than  ten  years  after  the  Lyrical 
Ballads,  hence  his  growingly  full  use  of  nature  might  easily  be 
due  in  part  to  the  influence  of  the  new  school  of  poetry.  His 
free  life,  the  different  class  of  peasants  he  saw,  the  new  poetry  he 
was  reading,  would  all  have  their  effect  in  turning  his  attention  to 
nature.  But  the  nature  he  chose  to  write  about  was  that  which 
he  had  known  and  loved  as  a  boy. 
-^^  William  Cowper  as  a  poet  of  nature,  is  marked  first  by  the  nar- 
rowness of  the  limits  within  which  he  writes.     Mountains'  are  merely 

mentioned.     Night  is  nowhere  described.     Moon- 
William  Cowper, .    ,  ,  •      1  •  T., 
,           8     1          light   plays   no  part  m  his   poetry. =     The   stars  are 

occasionally  spoken  of,  but  only  in  a  conventional 
manner  as  "  shining  hosts,"  "  fair  ministers  of  light ,"  or  "beamy 
fires."  Of  wild  scenery  there  is  none.  The  nearest  approach 
to  it  is  in  two  brief  descriptions  of  rocky  bluffs  on  the  sea- 
shore.3  His  references  to  the  ocean  are  brief  and  not  of  much 
importance;  nor  are  there  any  storms  except  in  a  few  lines  about 
''  a  driving,  dashing  rain  "  with  thunder  and  lightning  used  as 
an  "apt  similitude."'*  The  one  winter  storm  is  merely  a  gentle 
fall  of  snow  that  comes  after  the  evening  curtains  are  tight 
drawn. 5  The  similitudes,  though  often  carefully  elaborated, 
show  little  if  any  new  use  of  nature,  and  they  are  drawn  from 
a  small  number  of  natural  facts.* 

'  In  a  letter  to  Newton,  Nov.  16,  1791,  he  wrote: 

"  I  would  that  I  could  see  some  of  the  mountains  which  you  have  seen  ; 
especially  because  Dr.  Johnson  has  pronounced  that  no  man  is  qualified  to  be  a 
poet  who  has  never  seen  a  mountain.  But  mountains  1  shall  never  see,  unless, 
perhaps,  in  a  dream,  or  unless  there  are  such  in  heaven." 

2  See  Task,  1:764;  4:254-258.     The  best  lines  on  the  moon  are  in  Task,  4:3, 

"  the  wintry  flood,  in  whicli  the  moon 
Sees  her  unwrinkled  face  reflected  bright." 

3  Task,  1:520;  6:495.  4  Truth,  238.  5  Task,  4:322. 

*  Illustrative  similitudes  are   those  drawn   from  the    thunder-storm    (Truth, 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  IN  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY  163 

The  explanation  of  this  narrowness  of  limit  is  twofold. 
Cowper  described  only  what  he  had  seen,'  and  he  had  seen  no 
country  but  his  own,  and  only  a  very  small  and  comparatively 
uninteresting  portion  of  that.  The  Downs  about  Bath,  where  he 
seems  to  have  been  for  a  short  time  when  he  was  about  eighteen, 
was  the  nearest  approach  to  wild  scenery  that  he  had  ever  known. 
During  the  seventeen  years  before  the  writing  of  The  Task  he 
had  seldom  left  Olney,  and  never  for  a  fortnight  together.""  His 
knowledge  was  further  limited  by  his  continued  ill  health.  He 
was  ignorant  of  certain  phases  of  the  out-door  world  simply 
because  his  physical  infirmities  kept  him  in   the  house. 

This  explanation  of  the  narrow  range  of  the  nature  in  Cow- 
per's  poetry  is  not  entirely  satisfactory,  for  when  we  come  to  his 
letters  we  find  suggestions  of  a  wider  experience  and  sympathy 
than  the  poems  would  indicate.  In  a  letter  to  Joseph  Hill  he 
wrote  : 

"  I  was  always  an  admirer  of  thunderstorms,  even  before  1 
knew  whose  voice  I  heard  in  them  ;  but  especially  an  admirer 
of  thunder  rolling  over  the  great  waters.  There  is  something 
singularly  majestic  in  the  sound  of  it  at  sea,  where  the  eye  and 
the  ear  have  uninterrupted  opportunity  of  observation,  and  the 
concavity  above,    being    made    spacious,    reflects    it   with    more 

advantage We  have  indeed  been  regaled  with  some 

of  those  bursts  of  etherial  music.  .  .  .  But  when  the  thun- 
der preaches,  an  horizon  bounded  by  the  ocean  is  the  only 
sounding  board." 

To  the   Rev.  William  Unwin,  Sept.  26,  1781,  he  wrote  : 

"I  think,  with  you,  that  the  most  magnificent  object  under 
heaven  is  the  great  deep ;  and  can  not  but  feel  an  unpolite 
species  of  astonishment  when  I  consider  the  multitudes  that 
view  it  without  emotion,  and  even  without  reflection.  In  all  its 
various  forms  it  is  an  object  of  all  others  the  most  suited  to  affect 

238),  deer  (Task,  3:  108),  peacocks  and  pheasants  (Truth,  58),  elm  and  vine 
Retirement,  129),  moles  (Task,  1:276),  etc. 

""  In  a  letter  to   Rev.  William  Unwin,  Oct.  1784,  Cowper  wrote  "My  des- 
criptions are  all  from  nature  ;  not  one  of  them  second-handed." 

2  To  Lady  Herbert,  Oct.  12,  1785. 


1 64         TREA  TMEiX  T  OF  NA  TURK  IN  ENGLISH  POE  TR  \ ' 

us  with  lasting  impressions  of  the  awful  power  that  created  and 
controls  it.  I  am  the  less  inclined  to  think  this  negligence 
excusable,  because,  at  a  time  of  life  when  I  gave  as  little  attention 
to  religious  subjects  as  any  man,  I  vet  remember  that  the  waves 
would  preach  to  me,  and  that  in  the  midst  of  dissipation  I  had 
an  ear  to  hear  them.  One  of  Shakespeare's  characters  says,  '  I 
am  never  merry  when  I  hear  sweet  music'  The  same  effect  that 
harmony  seems  to  have  had  upon  him  I  have  experienced  from 
the  sight  and  sound  of  the  ocean,  which  have  often  composed 
my  thoughts  into  a  melancholv  not  unpleasing  nor  without  its 
use." 

He  had  also,  during  these  years  at  Olney,  made  many 
an  imaginary  evening  journey  to  remote  lands  by  means  of 
books  of  travel,  of  which  he  was  especially  fond.  But  when  he 
came  to  write  poems,  only  what  he  had  known  at  first  hand 
and  with  long  familiarity  occurred  to  him.  Experiences  merely 
casual,  or  remote  in  time,  and  facts  gained  from  books  slipped 
away.  He  remembered  only  what  he  habitually  saw.  The 
scenes  about  Olney  he  knew,  literally,  by  heart,  and  of  these  he 
wrote. 

A  characteristic  excellence  of  Cowper's  treatment  of  nature  is 
that,  within  his  narrow  circuit,  his  knowledge  is  of  lymsnnl  ful- 
ness and  accuracy^  The  charm  of  truthful  description  is  every- 
where apparent.  In  pictures  of  homely  country  occupations, 
such  as  feeding  the  hens,'  foddering  the  cattle,^  cutting  wood,^ 
plowing,^  threshing,^  there  are  no  false  touches,  no  hasty  work. 
All  is  the  result  of  first-hand,  leisurely,  sympathetic  observation. 
His  description  of  the  garden  is  from  memory,  but  it  almost 
seems  as  if  he  were  walking  from  flower  to  flower  and  taking 
notes,  so  minute  is  the  characterization,  so  exact  each  epithet  in 
the  representation  of  the  various  colors,  forms,  odors,  and  ways 
of  growth  of  the  flowers  in  this  garden  that  the  poet  sees  under 
the  snows  of  winter.* 

The  same  love  of  precise  detail  is  illustrated  in  his  descrip- 
tions of  trees.     In  noting  their  color  he  does  not,  like  Thomson, 

"  Task,  5:58.  3  Task,  5:41.  5  Task,  1:358. 

-  Task,  5:27.  -t  Task,  I:i6l.  *  Task,  6:147. 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  IN  THE  EIGHIEENTH  CENTURY  165 

enjoy  general,  broadly  inclusive  words,  but  he  gives  the  exact 
shade  and  tells  to  what  tree  it  belongs.  When  he  takes  a  walk 
he  sees  that  the  trunks  of  the  ash,  the  lime,  and  the  beech  shine 
distinctly  under  their  shadowy  foliage.  The  willow  is  a  "wan- 
nish  gray."  The  poplar  is  likewise  gray,  but  there  is  a  touch  of 
silver  in  the  lining  of  the  leaves.  The  elm  is  deeper  green  than 
the  ash,  and  the  oak  of  a  deeper  green  still.  The  maple,  the 
beech,  and  the  lime  have  glossy  leaves  that  shine  in  the  sun. 
The  sycamore  changes  from  green  to  tawny,  and  then  to  scarlet, 
according  to  the  season.' 

This  highly  differentiated  knowledge  is  evident  also  in  various 
passages  on  the  sounds  of  nature.  In  a  letter  to  Newton  he 
wrote  :  "  The  notes  of  all  our  birds  and  fowls  please  me,  without 
one  exception ;  .  .  .  and  as  to  insects  ...  in  whatever 
key  they  sing,  from  the  gnat's  fine  treble  to  the  bass  of  the  hum- 
ble bee,  I  admire  them  all." 

Equally  specific  is  his  record  of  the  sounds  from  winds  and 
waters,  as  in  these  lines  : 

"  Rills  that  slip 
Through  the  cleft  rock,  and  chiming  as  they  fall 
Upon  loose  pebbles,  lose  themselves  at  length 
In  matted  grass  that  with  a  livelier  green 
Betrays  the  secret  of  their  silent  course."  ^ 

Or  these  about  forest  sounds  : 

"  Mighty  winds 
That  sweep  the  skirt  of  some  far-spreading  wood 
Of  ancient  growth,  make  music  not  unlike 
The  dash  of  ocean  on  his  winding  shore."  ^ 

In  wider  descriptions,  as  of  extended  views,  there  is  abso- 
lutely no  blurring  of  edges.  The  picture  is  as  clear,  distinct, 
and  exact  as  a  photograph.  There  is  no  inartistic  mixing  of 
foi  ground  and  background.  A  good  example  is  the  view 
described  in  the  first  book  of  The  Task.*  The  eye  travels  over 
the   landscape   with  its  river   shining   like  molten  glass  ;    on  its 

'Task,  I  :  304.  3Task,  l  :  185. 

^Task,  I  :  195.  4Task,  i  :  159. 


U 


1 6  6  TKEA  TMEXT  OF  NA  TL  ^RE  IN  ENGLISH  FOE  FF  Y 

banks  droop  the  elms,  on  either  side  are  level  plains  sprinkled 
with  cattle,  beyond  is  the  sloping  land  covered  with  hedgerows, 
groves,  heaths,  with  here  and  there  a  square  tower  or  tall  spire, 
and  in  the  distance  smoking  towns ;  and  at  last  the  scene  is  lost 
in  the  clouds  on  the  horizon. 
I  Many  little  pictures,  complete  in  a  few  lines,  serve  even 
better  to  illustrate  the  exquisite  truth  of  Cowper's  work.  Note 
this  description  of  the  shifting  lights  in  a  forest  pathway  : 

"  While  beneath 
The  chequered  earth  seems  restless  as  a  flood 
Brushed  by  the  wind.     So  sportive  is  the  light 
Shot  through  the  boughs,  it  dances  as  they  dance, 
Shadow  and  sunshine  intermingling  quick, 
And  darkening  and  enlightening,  as  the  leaves 
Play  wanton,  every  moment,  every  spot."* 

Or  this  of  the   squirrel  just  come  from  winter  quarters   in  some 

lonely  elm  : 

"  Flippant,  pert,  and  full  of  play  : 

He  sees  me,  and  at  once,  swift  as  a  bird, 

Ascends  the  neighboring  beech  ;  there  whisks  his  brush, 

And  perks  his  ears,  and  stamps,  and  cries  aloud, 

With  all  the  prettiness  of  feign'd  alarm 

And  anger  insignificantly  fierce."  - 

Equally  felicitous  are  the  descriptions  of   tall  grass  fledged 
with  icy  feathers  on  a  frosty  morning,^  or  of  the  red-breast  in  a 
sheltered  woodland  path   in  winter.''     These   pictures  and  other 
similar  ones  immediately  take  a  permanent  place  in  "  -"'-  "lental 
picture   gallery.     It  would  be  difficult  indeed  for  a  painting  to 
make  the  light  dance  as  it  does  in  that  forest  path.     The  squirrel 
absolutely  tingles  with  life.     The  right   word  comes  easily  and 
the  lines  show  exquisite  deftness  of  literary  touch.     It  is  rare  in 
any  poetry  to  find  more  excellent  examples  of  pure  description 
than  these   and   other  passages   in  The  Task.     Cowpei    hadier 
mind  that  watches  and   receives.       He  looked   abor' 
wrote  down  in  simple,  sincere  words  the  loveliness  he  louna.    \i^^ 
took  notes,  but  they  were  of  the  right  sort,  mental  and  uncon- 

'  Task,  I  :  346.  3  Task,  5  :  22. 

2  Task,  6:310.  4  Task,  6:77. 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  IN  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY  167 

scious,  the  inevitable  imprint  on  a  sensitive  mind  of  scenes  that 
had  ministered  to  his  deepest  need. 

The  ministry  of  nature  to  human   needs  is  a  cardinal  prin-  1 
ciple  in  Cowper's  poetry.     Nor  was  this  conception  merely  theo- 
retic.    It  was  rather  a  transcript  from  his  own  experience.    From 
childhood  he  had  loved  nature,'  and  poems  about  nature,'  and  he 
had  always  planned  to  live  in  the   country.  ^     After  years  of  dis- 
appointment and  terrifying  fears  comparative  peace  came  to  him 
amid    quiet    country    scenes.     The    instincts    of    his  early  days 
revived.     Nature  offered   him  a  paradise  of  rich    delights.     ShA 
enchanted  him.     She  gave  him  heart-consoling  joys.     Shesweet-\ 
ened  his  bitter  life,  alluring  him  with  smiles  from  gloom  to   hap- 
piness.    The  glory  of  each  new  morning  was  a  lesson   in  hope. 
He   found   in   nature  the  nurse  of  wisdom,  a   power  that   could 
compose   his   passions   and  exalt  his  mind.     He  felt  that  in  the) 
country  God  spoke  directly  to  his  heart.* 

The  obverse  of  this  genuine  love  of  the  country  is  an  equally 
genuine  detestation  of  the  town  and  town  standards.  The  crowds 
that  swarm  to  city  streets  are  the  subjects  of  repeated  invectives, 
and  there  is  even  more  emphatic  scorn  of  sham  lovers  of  nature, 
as  cockneys  in  suburban  villas;  girls  who  but  for  the  show  and 
dress-parade  of  the  country  would  hurry  back  to  the  city  ;  men 
who  love  hunting  and  fishing,  and  call  it  a  love  of  nature;  senti- 
mentalists, who  exclaim  over  Thomson's  poetry,  but  prefer  to  read 
it  in  the  city.  5  His  own  relationship  with  nature  Avas  too  intimate 
and^'^o'-'  ':red  to  admit  of  indifference  or  profanation  on  the 
part  of  others. 

Gowper's  literary  use  of  nature  was  largely  determined  by  his 

•Task,  I;  109,    142.  =  Task,  4:700.  34:695. 

4  See  Hope,  11,  .39-60  ;  Task,  3:721  ;  4:780 ;  3:301  ;  and  other  passages. 

_^^     Tn  thf  passage  from  Hope  compare  the  line  : 

foi    groi  "  She  spreads  the  morning  over  Eastern  hills," 

des'^r'^   -         jrth's 

"  A  boy  I  loved  the  sun 

.     .     .     .     for  this  cause  that  I  had  seen  him  lay 

His  beauty  on  the  morning  hills."  — Prelude,  2: 183. 

s  See  Retirement,  481,  563;  Task,  3:314;  3:306. 


y 


1 6  8         TREA  TMENT  OF  NA  TURE    ^N  ENGLISH  POE  TR  V 

purpose  in  writing.  His  p'  .ical  thesis  received  its  dogmatic 
summing  up  in  the  famous  dictum, 

"  God  made  the  country  and  man  made  the  town."' 
and    to    the    establishment   of  this    thesis   nearly   all  his  use  of 
nature  is  made  more  or  less  directly  subservient. 

This  is  clearly  seen  in  his  use  of  summaries.  He  has  a  habit 
of  analyzing  nature  into  separate  facts  and  then  classifying  these 
facts  under  topics.  For  instance,  to  make  a  list  of  his  sounds 
one  hardly  needs  to  search  through  the  poems.  They  will  be 
found  already  grouped  together.  So,  too,  the  garden  flowers,  the 
greenhouse  flowers,  the  colors  of  trees,  country  occupations,  and 
country  pleasures,  are  arranged  under  heads  instead  of  being 
scattered  through  various  descriptions.  Then  there  are  many 
summaries  of  miscellaneous  facts.  Now  the  literary  purpose  of 
nearly  every  assemblage  of  details  is  the  establishment  or  illus- 
tration of  some  point  connected  with  the  general  conception 
of  the  superior  attractions  of  the  country.  The  catalogues  of 
facts  have  a  definite  argumentative  value,  and  the  artistic  selec- 
tion of  these  facts  out  of  the  mass  known  is  determined  by  the 
especial  point  under  consideration.  In  i?<?/;Vr;«^///' there  is  a  rapid 
enumeration  of  many  phases  of  nature  in  various  seasons,  the 
purpose  being  to  show  that  all  forms  of  nature  are  pleasing  to  a 
poet's  mind   The  following  passage  is  a  good  example  of  a  sum-  | 

mary  the  purpose  of  which  is  to  present  a  concrete,  picturesque, 
amplified  statement  of  the  creed  that  nature  gives  a  wisdom 
higher  than  can  come  from  books  : 

"  But  trees,  and  rivulets,  whose  rapid  course 
Defies  the  check  of  winter,  haunts  of  deer, 
And  sheep-walks  populous  with  bleating  lambs, 
And  lanes,  in  which  the  primrose  ere  her  time 
Peeps  through  the  moss  that  clothes  the  hawthorn  root. 
Deceive  no  student.     Wisdom  there,  and  truth, 
Not  shy,  as  in  the  world,  and  to  be  won 
By  slow  solicitation,  seize  at  once 
The  roving  thought,  and  fix  it  on  themselves."  - 

'  Task,  1:749. 

-  Task, 6:  109;  cf.  lines 84-1 17  Wordsworth  in  The  Tables  Turned; 


( 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  IN  7   'E  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY  169 

Frequent  summaries  are  useu  \o  show  that  in  the  country 
God  gives  especial  revelations  of  his  power.  The  long  flower 
catalogue  is  to  show  that  the  beauty  of  the  flushing  spring 
but  speaks  to  man  of  the  indwelling  of  God.'  The  ceaseless 
activity  of  nature  is  attested  by  another  summary.  ^  Still  fur- 
ther summaries  illustrate  the  power  of  nature  over  the  man 
wearied  with  cares  of  state. ^  The  beautiful  summary  of  rural 
sounds  is  to  show  the  exhilarating  effect  of  nature  on  the  languid 
mind  and  heart.''  It  is  this  underlying  purpose  that  gives  unity 
to  passages  which  would  otherwise  be  hardly  more  than  cata- 
logues. 

Another  characteristic  way  in  which  Cowper  presents  nature 
is  in  descriptive  passages  used  as  a  background  for  his  own  medi- 
tative figure.  The  beautiful  description  of  the  sheltered  path 
where  he  walked  in  winter  ^  would  lose  much  of  its  meaning  if 
we  were  not  throughout  conscious  of  the  poet's  presence  and  his 
delighted  response  to  all  the  influences  about  him.  Nearly  all 
the  passages  that  might  otherwise  be  called  pure  description  are 
given  warmth  and  tone  by  the  fact  that  we  go  with  the  poet,  and, 
as  it  were,  hear  him  talk  about  the  scene  as  one  he  has  long 
known  and  loved,  until  it  takes  from  him  the  interest  of  person- 
ality, or  we  seem  to  see  him  in  semi-identification  with  the 
scenes.     It  is   the  apparent   equality,  the   comradeship,  between 

"  Books!  'tis  a  dull  and  endless  strife, 


Come  forth  into  the  light  of  things, 
Let  Nature  be  your  teacher. 
She  has  a  world  of  ready  wealth 
Our  minds  and  hearts  to  bless. 


Sweet  is  the  lore  which  Nature  brings  ; 
Ourmeddling  intellect 
Mis-shapes  the  beauteous  forms  of  things." 

See  also,  To  My  Sister: 

"One  moment  now  may  give  us  more 
I'han  years  of  toiling  reason." 

'  Task,  6: 121-197.  3  Retirement,  419.  s  Task,  6:59. 

^Task,  1:369.  4  Task,  6:181. 


1 7 o         TREA  TMENT  OF  NA  TURE  IN  ENGLISH  POE  TR  V 

the  hare,  the  squirrel,  and  the  poet  in  the  solitary  winter  retreat 
that  adds  to  the  beauty  of  the  spot  the  needed  human  touch. 
Nature  is  thus  suffused  with  human  experience  and  takes  on  a 
new  interest.  But  it  usually  happens  that  these  descriptions 
become,  further,  either  the  appropriate  setting  for  a  certain  train 
of  reflections  on  the  part  of  the  poet,  or  they  directly  suggest 
these  suggestions.  In  the  winter  retreat  just  spoken  of  the  fear- 
less, innocent  animal  life  becomes  the  occasion  of  a  long  disqui- 
sition on  the  lesson  of  benevolence  taught  by  nature  to  man. 
In  the  sheltered  walk  the  poet  finds  his  mind  soothed  and  pre- 
pared for  a  Wordsworthian  contemplation  on  nature  as  the 
teacher  of  the  wise,  so  that  ultimately  many  of  Cowper's  descrip- 
tions, as  well  as  his  summaries,  become  contributary  to  his  main 
purpose. 

Cowper's  knowledge  of  natural  facts  was  not  more  remark- 
able than  John  Scott's.  His  range  was  much  narrower  than 
Thomson's.  Other  men  had  loved  nature  with  passionate 
intensity.  To  other  minds  nature  had  suggested  deep  thoughts 
of  God  and  man.  Cowper  came  when  many  elements  of  the 
new  attitude  towards  nature  had  been  voiced.  What  marks  him 
out  as  holding  a  unique  position  is  not  only  that  he  gave  body 
and  emphasis  to  the  new  thought,  but  especially  that  be  became 
its  propagandist.  He  analyzed  the  effect  of  nature  on  man,  he 
translated  his  personal  experiences  into  a  theory  which  he  set 
himself  to  interpret  and  promulgate.  He  wrote  with  the  zeal  of 
a  convert.  Joy  such  as  had  come  to  him  late  in  life  was  man's 
natural  heritage.  Men  must  be  called  back  from  the  perverted 
and  ruinous  life  of  towns  to  the  simplicity  of  nature.  His 
theme  is  stated  abstractly,  repeated  in  concrete  form,  illustrated 
and  amplified  with  the  patience  and  ardor  of  absolute  conviction. 

i      He  was  the  preacher  of  the  new  religion  of  nature. 

Robert  Burns  was  deeply  sensitive   to  the  charms  of  nature. 

In  a  letter  to  Mrs.  Dunlop  he  said  : 

"  I    have    some    favorite    flowers    in     Spring, 

Robert  Burns  u-   i,  ^u  ^   ■      ^   ■        *u      u 

amonsr    which    are   the   mountam-daisy,  the  hare- 
(1759-1796)  °  -^ 

bell,   the  foxglove,   the   wild   brier-rose,  the    bud- 
ding birk  and  the  hoary   hawthorn,  that  I  view  and  hang  over, 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  IN  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY    171 

with  particular  delight.  I  never  hear  the  loud,  solitary  whistle  of 
the  curlew  in  a  Summer  noon,  or  the  wild  mixing  cadence  of  a 
troop  of  grey-plover,  in  an  Autumnal  morning,  without  feeling 
an  elevation  of  soul  like  the  Enthusiasm  of  Devotion  or  Poetry/ 
Again  he  says  : 

"  I  have  various  sources  of  pleasure  which  are  in  a  manner 
peculiar  to  myself Such  is  the  peculiar  pleas- 
ure I  take  in  the  season  of  Winter  more  than   in  the  rest  of  the 

year There    is    scarcely    any    earthly    object 

gives  me  more — I  don't  know  if  I  should  call  it  pleasure,  but 
something  which  exalts  me,  something  which  enraptures  me, 
than  to  walk  in  the  sheltered  side  of  a  wood  or  high  plantation 
in  a  cloudy  winter  day,  and  hear  a  stormy  wind  howling  among 
the  trees  and  raving  o'er  the  plain.  It  is  my  best  season  for  devo- 
tion ;  my  mind  is  rapt  up  in  a  kind  of  enthusiasm  to  Him  who 
walks  on  the  wings  of  the  wind."  " 

Note  also  what  Mr.  Walker,  his  companion  on  the  Border 
Tour,  says  of  him  : 

"  I  had  often,  like  others,  experienced  the  pleasures  which 
arise  from  the  sublime  or  elegant  landscape,  but  I  never  saw 
those  feelings  so  intense  as  in  Burns.  When  we  reached  a  rustic 
hut  on  the  river  Tilt,  where  it  is  overhung  by  a  woody  precipice, 
from  which  there  is  a  noble  waterfall,  he  threw  himself  on  the 
heathy   seat,    and  gave  himself  up   to   a   tender,  abstracted,  and 

'  Burns :  Works,  Vol.  5,  p.  18.5. 

-  Burns  ,  Works,  Vol.  i,  p,  28. 

Cf.  lines  in  the  Epistle  to  William  Simson. 

"  Ev'n  winter  bleak  has  charms  to  me, 
When  winds  rave  thro'  the  naked  tree  ; 
Or  frosts  on  hills  of  Ochiltree 

Are  hoary  gray  ; 
Or  blinding  drifts  wild-furious  flee 

Dark'ning  the  day ! 
O  Nature  !    a'  thy  shews  and  forms 
To  feeling,  pensive  hearts  hae  charms, 
Whether  the  summer  kindly  warms 
Wi'  life  an'  light ; 
Or  winter  howls,  in  gusty  storms, 

The  lang,  dark  night." 


172         TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

voluptuous  enthusiasm  of  imagination It  was 

with  much  difficulty  that  I  prevailed  upon  him  to  leave  the  spot."  ' 
This  susceptibility   to  nature  was   one  of  the  signs  by  which 
"  Coila  "  knew  that  Burns  would   be   the  poet   of  Scotland.      He 
represents  her  as  saying  to  him  : 

"  I  saw  thee  seek  the  sounding  shore, 
Delighted  with  the  dashing  roar  ; 
Or  when  the  North  his  fleecy  store 

Drove  thro'  the  sky 
I  saw  grim  Nature's  visage  hoar 

Struck  thy  young  eye. 

"  Or  when  the  deep  green-mantled  earth 
Warm  cherished  ev'ry  floweret's  birth, 
And  joy  and  music  pouring  forth 

In  ev'ry  grove  ; 
I  saw  thee  eye  the  general  mirth 
With  boundless  love."* 

In  his  Commonplace  Book,  Burns  records  his  eager  desire  to 
write  verse  that  shall  make  "  the  fertile  banks  of  Irvine,  the  roman- 
tic woodlands  &  sequestered  scenes  on  Aire,  and  the  healthy, 
mountainous  source,  &  winding  sweep  of  Boon  emulate  Tay, 
Forth,  Ettrick,  Tweed,  &c."3  And  his  love  of  nature  was  limited 
in  scope  to  just  these  scenes  of  which  he  speaks.  He  had  no 
iinterest  in  mountains  or  the  sea.  Mr.  Douglas  calls  attention  to 
the  fact  that,  "living  in  fullfaceof  theArran  hills  he  never  names 
them."'*  He  was  as  narrow  in  his  limits  and  as  vividly  local  in 
the  nature  he  chose  to  represent  as  was  Cowper,  but  what  he 
loved  he  loved  with  intensity.  In  the  beautiful  and  picturesque 
scenery  about  Ayr  he  found  poetic  inspiration.  To  William 
Simson  he  said, 

'  Burns  :  Works,  Vol.  4,  p.  272.  ""  The  Vision. 

^  Burns:  Works,  Vol.  4,  p.  91. 
4  Burns:  Works,  Vol.  i,  p. 18 

In  one  poem   Burns  declares  that  he  prefers  "  wild  mossy  moors  "  to 
,'  Forth's  sunny  shores,"  but  a  characteristic  reason, 

"  For  there  by  a  lanely  sequestered  stream 
Resides  a  sweet  lassie,  my  thought  and  my  dream," 

forbids  the  use  of  the  passage  as  a  proof  of  real  enjoyment  of  the  wild  in  nature. 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  IN  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY  173 

"  The  muse,  nae  poet  ever  fand  her, 
Till  by  himself  he  learn'd  to  wander, 
Adown  some  trottin  burn's  meander. 
An'  no  think  lang  ;  " 

and  in  The  Brigs  of  Ayr  he  says  the  simple  bard  may  learn  his 
tuneful  trade  from  every  bough. 

Burns's  knowledge  of  the  nature  about  him  was  abundant  and 
exact,  and  he  was  keenly  critical  of  any  note  of  falsity  in  the 
poems  of  others.  He  objected  to  the  "Banks  of  the  Dee" 
because  of  the  line, 

"  And  sweetly  the  nightingale  sang  ^rom  the  tree" 

"In  the  first  place,"  he  said,  "the  nightingale  sings  in  a  low  bush, 
but  never  from  a  tree ;  and  in  the  second  place,  there  never  was 
a  nightingale  seen  or  heard  on  the  banks  of  the  Dee,  nor  the  banks 
of  any  other  river  in  Scotland.  Exotic,  rural  imagery  is  always 
comparatively  flat."' 

Again  he  said  of  another  song,  "  It  is  a  fine  song,  but  for  consis- 
tency's sake,  alter  the  name 'Adonis.' "  Was  there  ever  such 
banns  published,  as  a  purpose  of  marriage  between  Adonis  and 
Mary  ?  These  Greek  and  Roman  pastoral  appellations  have  a 
flat,  insipid  effect  in  a  Scot  song."^  He  gives  especial  praise  to 
Rev.  Dr.  Cririe,  because  "like  Thomson,"  the  poet  had  "looked 
into  nature  for  himself,"  and  had  nowhere  been  content  with  a 
"copied  description." 3 

When  Burns  wrote  a  descriptive  poem  of  set  purpose  he  was 
comparatively  commonplace  and  uninteresting  as  in  The  Fall  of 
Foyers  or  Admiring  Nature.     His  best  descriptions  come  in,  by 
chance   as  it  were,  in  the  midst    of  some  vivid  human   interests. 
One  of  the  most  beautiful  is  a  stanza  in  Halloween. 

"  Whyles  owre  a  linn  the  burnie  plays. 

As  thro'  the  glen  it  wimpl't  ; 
Whyles  round  a  rocky  scaur  it  strays, 

Whyles  in  a  wiel  it  dimpl't  ; 
Whyles  glitter'd  ta  the  nightly  rays, 

Wi'  bickerin,  dancin  dazzle  ; 

'Burns:  Works,  Vol.  6,  p.  242.  3 Burns:  Works,  5,  p.  165. 

^  Burns:  Works,  6,  p.  241. 


I  7  4         TREA  TMENT  OF  NA  TURE  IN  ENGLISH  POE  TR  Y 

Whyles  cookit  underneath  the  braes, 
Below  the  spreading  hazle 

Unseen  that  night." 

Work  so  perfect  as  this  is  rare  in  any  age.     The  beauty  of  the 
poem  is  simply  the  beauty  of  the  stream  itself. 

Burns's  chief  use  of  nature,  however,   is  in  connection   with 
V  /  man.    External  nature  is  illustration,  background,  frame,  for  human 

'  emotions.  The  Lass  of  Cressfiock  Banks  v;a.?,v^'v\\.iex\  ^.t  twenty-two 
and  is  the  first  one  of  his  poems  in  which  there  is  any  distinct  use 
of  nature.  It  is  merely  an  assemblage  of  twelve  formally  drawn 
out  similes  to  represent  the  beauty  of  the  lassie.  Some  of  these 
similes  are  conventional  and  unmeaning,  as  when  her  hair  is  lik- 
ened to  curling  mist  on  a  mountain  side,'  her  forehead  to  a  rain- 
bow, her  lips  to  ripe  cherries,  and  her  teeth  to  a  flock  of  sheep. 
In  later  poems  the  similitudes  are  simpler  and  sweeter,  but  they 
are  drawn  from  a  small  number  of  facts  and  those  of  the  more 
obvious  sort,  as  the  "simmer  morn,"  "the  flower  in  May,"  "the 
opening  rose."  A  much  more  effective  use  of  nature  is  as  dra- 
matic background  either  by  congruity  or  contrast.  As  fine  exam- 
ples of  the  use  of  nature  to  give  the  keynote  of  the  human  emo- 
tion it  accompanies  we  have  the  opening  lines  of  the  Elegy, 
Farewell  Song  to  the  Banks  of  Ayr,  Raving  winds  around  her 
blowing,  and  Farewell  to  Ballochmyle.  The  more  usual  form  is  to 
represent  a  natural  picture  in  contrast  to  the  human  emotion, 
as  in  The  Chevalier's  Lament,  The  Lament  of  Mary,  Queen  of 
Scots,  or,  best  of  all.  The  Banks  of  Doon.  Vy 

"Ye  banks  and  braes  o'  bonny  Doon,  | 

How  can  ye  bloom  sae  fresh  and  fair  ? 
How  can  ye  chant  ye  little  birds, 
And  I  sae  weary,  fu'  of  care!" 

It  is  characteristic  of  Burns  that  his  knowledge  was  wider 
and  his  sympathy  keener  in  the  realm  of  animate  than  of  inani- 
mate nature.  He  apparently  thought  of  animals  almost  as  if 
they  had  been  human.  The  address  to  a  mouse  is  as  tenderly  and 
genuinely  sympathetic  as  if  it  had  been  to  a  hurt  child.     On 

'  Burns  warnil}'  admired  Ossian,  and  this  phrase  sounds  like  an  echo  from 
one  of  the  Ossian  poems. 


i 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY  175 

winter  nights  he  listens  to  the  wind  and  cannot  sleep  for  think- 
ing of  the  "  ourie  cattle"  and  "silly  sheep"  and  helpless  birds 
that  "  cow'r  "  with  "  chittering  wing."'  He  scorned  hunting  and 
said  there  was  no  warm  poetic  heart  that  did  not  inly  bleed  at 
man's  savage  cruelty.''  He  found  it  impossible  to  reconcile 
so-called  "  sport  "  with  his  ideas  of  virtue. 3  He  knew  animals, 
especially  birds,  in  an  intimate,  friendly  fashion.  In  the  descrip- 
tion of  their  manners  and  habits  there  is  the  most  minute  real- 
ism. The  following  phrases  are  illustrative:  "Ye  grouse  that 
crap  the  heather  bud,"  "  Ye  curlews  calling  thro'  a  clud  ;  "  "  Ye 
whirring  paitrick  brood;"  "Ye  fisher  herons  watching  eels;" 
"  sooty  coots  ;  "  "  speckled  teals  ;  "  "  whistling  plover  ;  " 

"  Clam'ring  craiks  at  close  o'  day 
'Mang  fields  o'  flow'ring  clover  gay  ;  " 

and 

"  Ye  duck  and  drake,  wi'  airy  wheels 
Circling  the  lake."'* 

In  accurate  first-hand  observation,  in  abundant  knowledge,  in 
the  use   of  felicitous  descriptive  epithets,  in  great  personal  joy         \/ 
in  nature,  in  delight  in  winter,  in  love  for  animals,  and  in  a  criti- 
cal estimate  of  the  value  of  truthful   portrayal   Burns  represents 
the  new  spirit.  ' 

William  Lisle  Bowles   is  another  of  the  reputed    "  fathers " 

of    modern    poetry.      His     slender     title     to    the    distinction 
thus    conferred    upon    him    by    Charles    Cowden 

William  Clarke,^   rests    on    the    admiration    of    Coleridge," 

Lisle  Bowles       0^1  j    t         17  r       1  ■  1  r      t-  ^ 

,     fT  _    o  \         oouthey,  and  LoveF  for  his  early  poems.      Prom 

179S   to   the   end   of    his   life   Bowles   wrote   con- 

'  Burns  :  Works,  Vol.  2,  p.  33.  4  Burns  :   Elegy  on  Captain  Henderson. 

2  Burns  :  The  Brigs  of  Ayr.  s  Bowles  :  Poetical  Works,  Vol.  2. 

3 Burns:  Works,  Vol.  5,  p.  231.  *See  Sonnet  by  Coleridge. 

7 "My  friend  Mr.  Crutwell,  the  printer,  wrote  a  letter  saying  that  two  young 
gentlemen,  strangers,  one  a  particularly  handsome  and  pleasing  youth,  lately 
from  Westminster  School,  and  both  literary  and  intelligent,  spoke  in  high 
commendation  of  my  volume."     See  preface  to  ed.  of  1837,  Bowles'  Poems. 

^Fourteen  Sonnets,  1789.  The  same  with  additions,  1790.  The  same 
reproduced  with  illustrations.  1798. 


I  7  6         TREA  TMENT  OF  NA  TURE  IN  ENGLISH  FOE  TR  V 

stantly,  so  the  list  of  his  works  is  a  long  one  ;  but  in  the  present 
study  we  are  concerned  only  with  the  poems  before  1798,  the 
ones  that  stirred  Coleridge  to  abandon  metaphysics  for  poetry. 

From  fourteen  to  nineteen  years  of  age  Bowles  was  in  Win- 
chester school  under  the  tutelage  of  Dr.  Joseph  Warton,  who 
won  the  boy's  confidence  and  inspired  him  with  his  own  tastes. 
In  the  Moiody  o/i  the  Death  of  Dr.  Warton,  written  eighteen 
years  after  these  school  days,  Bowles  says  of  Warton, 

"Thy  cheering  voice, 
O  Warton  !  bade  my  silent  heart  rejoice, 
And  wake  to  love  of  nature  ;  every  breeze 
On  Itchin's  brink  was  melody  ;  the  trees 
Waved  in  fresh  beauty ;         .         .         .        . 

And  witness  thou 
Catherine,  upon  whose  foss-encircled  brow 
We  met  the  morning,  how  I  loved  to  trace 
The  prospect  spread  around.     . 
So  passed  my  days  with  new  delight." 

Warton  also  taught  him  to  love  literature.  He  learned  to  read 
Greek  poets  with  "young-eyed  sympathy,"  and  he  went  with 
"  holier  joy  "  to 

"  The  lonely  heights  where  Shakespeare  sat  sublime." 

Charmed,  the  lad  bent  his  soul 

"Great  Milton's  solemn  harmonies  to  hear." 

"  Unheeded  midnight  hours  "  were  beguiled  by  the  wild  song  of 
Ossian,  and  his  fancy  found  a  "  magic  spell  "  in  the  Odes  of  his 
master,  Dr.  Warton. 

The  influences  of  these  early  school  days  had  awakened  Bowles 
to  love  of  nature  and  of  poetry,  and  when  sorrow  came  it  was  to 
nature  and  to  poetry  that  be  turned  for  relief.  'H.i?,  Sonnets  are  the 
direct  and  genuine  expression  of  a  personal  grief.  They  were 
composed,  he  says,  during  a  tour  in  which  he  "sought  forgetful- 
nessof  the  first  disappointment  in  early  affections,'"  and  they  are 
pervaded  by  a  melancholy  unmistakably  real.  But  along  with 
this  deep  sadness  is  a  frequent  recognition  of  the  power  of  nature 

'Bowles:  Poems,  Introduction  to  edition  of  18.^7. 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OE  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTl'RY   177 

to  give  at  least  temporary  respite  from  grief.  Not  only  does  she 
"  steep  each  sense  in  still  delight,"  '  but  she  bestows  "  a  soothing 
charm."'     The  lovely  sights  and  sounds  of  morning 

"Touch  soft  the  wakeful  nerve's  according  string."  3 

The  river  Itchen  brings  "solace  to  his  heart. "^  After  visiting 
the  Cherwell  he  says  : 

"  Whate'er  betide,  yet  something  have  I  won 
Of  solace,  that  may  bear  me  on  serene."  s 

In  the  midst  of  sorrow  he  is 

"  Thankful  that  still  the  landscape  beaming  bright 
Can  wake  the  wonted  sense  of  pure  delight."* 

What  Bowles  saw  in  nature  was  largely  determined  by  his  state 
of  mind.  His  own  sadness  led  him  to  a  quick  perception  of  the 
pensive  or  melancholy  suggestions  in  any  scene.  He  loved 
sequestered  streams,  romantic  vales,  the  hush  of  evening.  The 
sounds  he  heard  were  soft  and  plaintive.  The  river  Wainsbeck 
makes  "  a  plaintive  song  among  its  "  mossy-scattered  rocks."'' 
He  listens  to  the  wind  and  seems  to  hear  a  plaint  of  sorrow.^  Sea 
sounds  are 

"  Like  melodies  that  mourn  upon  the  lyre."' 

"  There  is  strange  music  in  the  stirring  wind 
When  lowers  the  autumal  eve."  '° 

Of  the  bells  at  Ostend  he  says  : 

"And  hark!  with  lessening  cadence  now  they  fall  ; 
And  now,  along  the  white  and  level  tide, 
They  fling  their  melancholy  music  wide  ; 
Bidding  me  many  a  tender  thought  recall 

'  Hope. 

2  The  Tweed  Visited, 

3  Elegy  Written  at  the  Hotwells,  Bristol. 

4  To  the  River  Itchen. 

5  The  River  Cherwell. 

^  Elegy  Written  at  the  Hotwells,  Bristol. 
'  The  Rjver  Wainsbeck.  cf.  Akenside. 
^The  River  Wainsbeck. 
5  At  Tynemouth  Priory. 
'°  Absence. 


1 7  8         TREA  TMENT  OF  NA  TURE  IN  ENGLISH  FOE  TR  V 

Of  summer  days,  and  those  delightful  years 
When  from  an  ancient  tower,  in  life's  fair  prime. 
The  mournful  magic  of  their  mingling  chime 
First  waked  my  wondering  childhood  into  tears."' 

Again,  his  own   striving  after   self-control  leads  him  to  look  with 

pleasure   on  such   natural  objects  as  have  withstood  the  shock  of 

tempests.     Rugged  Malvern  Hill,  on  which  the  "parting  sun  sits 

smiling,"    teaches    him'  a   lesson    of  victory   over   grief,  and  he 

exclaims, 

"  Ev'n  as  thou 

Dost  lift  in  the  pale  beam  thy  forehead  high, 

Proud  mountsijin!  whilst  the  scattered  vapours  fly 

Unheed'ed  round  thy  breast — so,  with  calm  brow 

The  shades  of  sorrow  I  may  meet,  and  wear 

The  smile  unchanged  of  peace,  though  pressed  by  care!"^ 

Soine  of  the  brief  descriptions  in   these  sonnets  are  beautiful  in 

themselves,  as 

"  How  shall  I  meet  thee.  Summer,  wont  to  fill 
My  heart  with  gladness,  when  thy  pleasant  tide 
First  came,  and  on  the  Coomb's  romantic  side 
Was  heard  the  distant  cuckoo's  hollow  bill."^ 

Or  this  from  Dover  Cliffs, 

"  On  these  white  cliffs,  that  calm  above  the  flood 
Uprear  their  shadowing  heads,  and  at  their  feet 
Hear  not  the  surge  that  has  for  ages  beat. 
How  many  a  lonely  wanderer  has  stood  ! 
And,  whilst  the  lifted  murmur  met  his  ear. 
And  o'er  the  distant  billows  the  still  eve 
Sailed  slow,  has  thought  of  all  his  heart  must  leave 
Tomorrow,"'' 

But  here,  as  elsewhere  in  the  poems,  the  chief  thought  is  human 
grief  ;  and  the  most  important  characteristic  of  the  poems,  taken 
as  a  whole,  is  the  intimate  union  between  the  spirit  of  a  man 
and  the  spirit  of    nature.     It  was  always   Bowles's  theory,  says 

•  The  Bells,  Ostend. 
-  At  Malvern. 

3  The  Approach  of  Summer. 

*  Dover  Cliffs. 


NATURE  IN  POETRY  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY  179 

Clark,'  that  nature  is  the  true  subject  of  poetry  ;  but  he  does  not, 
in  his  later  work,  strike  so  true  and  simple  a  note  as  in  these 
early  sonnets. 

Such  general  statements  as  are  to  be  drawn  from  this  study  of 
specific  poets  can  be  more  conveniently  made  after  the  studies  in 
Gardening,  Fiction,  Travels,  and  Painting,  for  these  four  studies, 
brief  as  they  are,  yet  offer  facts  that  modify  or  confirm  the 
impression  gained  from  the  poetry. 

'  Bowles's  Memoir. 


CHAPTER  III. 


GARDENING. 


Up  to  the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century  the  garden 
that  had  satisfied  public  taste  was  some  form  of  the  Ancient,  Geo- 
metrical, Roman,  Architectural,  or  Regular  Gar- 
Gardening  den,  as  it  has  been  variously  styled.  In  English 
literature  this  garden  plays  but  a  small  part.  In 
Evelyn's  Diary  we  find  many  descriptions  of  French  and  Italian 
gardens  which  are  eminently  suggestive  as  showing  the  taste  of 
the  age.  His  approbation  is  always  given  to  proofs  of  ingenuity 
in  the  way  of  mechanical  devices.  We  find  the  same  general 
tone  in  a  letter  by  Mallet.  He  had  been  traveling  in  Wales  for 
six  weeks,  and  had  found  the  journey  simply  "  tedious  "  till  he 
came  to  Sir  Arthur  Owen's  garden,  which  consisted  of  an  acre 
and  a  half,  laid  out  like  a  mariner's  compass  with  a  tree  in  the 
centre  for  the  needle  and  a  grove  cut  into  thirty-two  sections  by 
paths  answering  to  the  points  in  the  compass.  This  was  the  only 
remarkable  thing  Mallet  saw  in  Wales.'  The  classical  and  the 
only  important  article  on  the  Formal  Garden  before  1700  is  by 
Sjj^WilUam  Temple."  According  to  his  taste  Moor  Park  was  the 
sweetest  garden  known.  It  was  divided  into  quarters  by  gravel 
walks,  and  adorned  with  two  fountains  and  eight  statues  in  each 
quarter.  Its  terrace  walk  had  a  summerhouse  at  each  end. 
On  each  side  of  the  parterre  was  a  cloister,  over  each  clois- 
ter an  airy  walk,  and  so  on.  "Among  us,"  he  explains,  "  the 
beauty  of  building  and  planting  is  placed  chiefly  in  some 
certain  proportions,  symmetries,  or  uniformities,  our  walks  and 
our  trees  ranged  so  as  to  answer  one  another  and  at  exact 
distances."       This  sentence    is    especially    interesting  as   show- 

'  Mallet  in  Letter  to  Pope  (1734). 

2  Temple  ;    On  the  Gardens  of  Epicurus  ;  or  of  Gardening  in  the  year  1685. 

180 


GARDENING  l8l 

ing  how  completely  the  ideal  garden  represented  the  thought  of 
the  age.  "  Certain  proportions,  symmetries,  and  uniform- 
ities "  is  a  phrase  characteristic  of  Classicism  in  all  its  manifesta- 
tions. Equally  characteristic  and  interesting  is  Temple's  reason 
for  approving  of  this  style  of  gardening.  In  exact  figures,  with 
regular  and  definite  intervals,  it  is,  he  says,  "  hard  to  make  any 
great  or  remarkable  faults."  In  this  sentence  there  is  surely  a 
suggestion  of  one  reason  for  the  love  of  order,  of  limits  clearly 
set,  that  marked  the  classical  spirit.  Symmetries  and  proportions 
and  uniformities  were  a  specific  against  great  and  remarkable 
faults  such  as  had  resulted  from  the  undue  license  of  a  romantic 
age.  The  beaten  path  had  legitimate  attractions  for  an  age  that 
had  lost  its  way  among  the  pleasures  of  the  pathless  woods. 

In  the  poetry  between  Marvell  and  Pope  the  garden  hardly 
appears  at  all.  Perhaps  the  gardens  in  Dryden's  plays  are  as 
significant  of  the  spirit  of  the  age  as  any  that  could  be  found. 
Take  especially  The  Tempest,  in  the  modernization  of  which  all 
the  exquisite  nature  setting  is  lost.  The  beautiful  part  of  the 
island  where  Prospero  lived  is  to  be  represented  thus  :  "  'Tis 
composed  of  three  walks  of  cypress  trees  :  each  side  walk  leads 
to  a  cave."  In  his  plays  the  scene  is  often  laid  in  a  garden,  but 
it  is  always  stiff  and  formal.  An  interesting  comparison  might 
be  made  between  these  garden  scenes  and  those  in  Faust. 

The  distinctive  characteristics  of  the  formal  garden  were  high 
walls  shutting  out  the  surrounding  country,  flights  of  stairs  going 
up  and  down  terraces,  trees  planted  in  long  straight  lines,  flower 
beds  in  geometric  patterns,  water  in  straight  canals  or  geometric 
basins,  and  elaborate  topiary  work." 

The  break  from  this  formal  garden  to  the  Natural  Garden 
(known  also  as  the   Modern,  English,   Irregular,   or  Landscape 

'  Quarterly  Review  Jan.  1817.  Article  on  H.  Repton's  Theory  and  Prac- 
tice of  Landscape  Gardening. 

Reginald  Blomfield  and  F.  Inigo  Thomas  :  The  Formal  Garden  in  Eng- 
land. 

Lecky :  England  in  the  Eighteenth  Century,  Vol.  i,  ch.  4. 

Walpole  :  On  Modern  Gardening  (an  excellent  summary).     Works,  Yd.  2. 

Famous  Parks  and  Gardens  of  the  World  Described  and  Illustrated.  (T. 
_  Nelson  &  Sons,  London,  1880.) 


1 8  2  TKEA  TMENT  OF  NA  TURE  IN  ENGLISH  POE  TK  V 

Garden)  began  early  in  the  eighteenth  century.  The  three  gar- 
deners who  by  theory  and  practice  established  the  new  ideas  were 
Bridgeman  who  was  first  in  the  field,  Kent  who  is  the  most 
famous,  and  Brown  who,  though  less  known,  is  said  to  have  had 
the  most  genius.  The  specific  credit  that  belongs  to  each  is  not 
beyond  dispute  but  apparently  Bridgeman  was  the  first  to  protest 
,  against  "  artificially  trained  and  sculptured  greenery."  He  also 
showed  distaste  for  the  "  mathematical  exactitude  and  rectilinear 
designs  of  the  preceding  age."  Walpole  ascribes  to  him  the 
destruction  of  the  walled  enclosures — "  the  decisive  step  that 
led  to  all  that  followed."  Bridgeman's  work  was,  however,  rather 
tentative  and  theoretic.  It  was  left  for  Kent  to  make  bold 
experiments  along  the  same  lines.  Walpole  calls  Kent  "  the 
father  of  modern  gardening."  What  Bridgeman  had  thought 
of,  Kent  thought  of  and  did.  His  fundamental  idea  was  to 
make  "  natural  pictures."  He  cut  down  the  fences  and  showed 
that  the  garden  should  be  ruralized  and  the  surrounding  country 
somewhat  cultivated  so  that  all  might  unite  in  a  harmonious 
whole.  He  wished  "  to  bring  nature  to  the  parlor  windows." 
His  underlying  principle  was  to  study  nature  and  to  follow  out 
her  laws.'  It  must  be  confessed  that  the  iron-clad  and  undis- 
criminating  application  of  this  theory  led  to  results  often  as  arti- 
ficial and  unnatural  as  the  formal  garden  had  been.  For 
instance,  nature  apparently  abhors  a  straight  line,  so  all  paths 
and  avenues  and  streams  were  sent  serpentining  about  in  the 
most  tedious  and  unmeaning  fashion.  Francis  Coventry  said 
that  no  follower  of  Kent  would  be  willing  to  go  to  heaven  on  a 
straight  line.  The  desire  to  get  rid  of  all  "  remnants  of  old 
formalities  "  led  to  the  destruction  of  many  fine  old  straight 
avenues.  The  desire  to  follow  nature  led  even  to  such  extrava- 
gances as   the   planting   of  dead   trees. ^      "  Capability  "    Brown 

'  There  is  a  discriminating  eulogy  of  Kent  in  Coventry's  paper  in  The 
World,  April  12,    1753. 

=  Sir  Walter  Scott :  Review  of  Stewart's  The  Planter's  Guide,  The  Quar- 
terly Review,  37:303. 

Francis  Coventry  :  Strictures  on  the  Absurd  Novelties  Introduced  into  Gar- 
dening, and  a  Humorous  Description  of  Squire  Mushroom's  Villa,  The  World, 
No.  15,  1753. 


GARDENING  183 

was  Kent's  successor.  He  carried  out  the  principles  of  Kent 
with  greater  skill  and  breadth  of  design.  Kent's  chief  gardens 
were  Richmond,  Esher,  Claremont,  Stowe,  and  Rusthani. 
Blenheim  was  formed  by  Brown  who  was  kitchen-gardener  at 
Stowe  when  Bridgeman  and  Kent  made  it  over.' 

In  this  brief  outline  of  the  beginnings  of  the  new  school  of 
gardening  the  points  to  be  emphasized  are  that  before  the  eigh- 
teenth century  the  fundamental  principle  on  which  gardens  were 
made  was  the  display  of  art,  of  triumphant  human  mastery  over 
nature;  that  the  fundamental  principle  on  which  the  new  gardens 
were  made  was  the  close  study  and  imitation  of  nature  and  the 
concealment  of  art  ;  that  this  change  was  made  early  in 
the  century,  while  the  classical  spirit  was  apparently  at  its 
height  ;  and  that  the  new  ideas  in  gardening  are  similar  to  the  first 
turnings  from  the  classical  conventions  regarding  nature  on  the 
part  of  the  poets,  and  are  contemporary  with  them.  Gardening 
was  unlike  poetry  in  that,  from  the  very  nature  of  the  art  in  gar- 
dening, some  enunciation  of  theories  preceded  any  possible 
practical  illustration.  All  change  in  the  art  of  gardening  was 
conscious  and  attended  by  more  or  less  discussion,  while  in 
poetry  a  similar  change  is  largely  unconscious,  or  at  least  seldom 
accompanied  by  formal  statements  of  theory.  But  both  changes 
grow  out  of  and  illustrate  the  same  mental  restlessness  under  the 
limitations  imposed  by  the  formal  or  classical  conception  of 
nature. 

In  this  revolt  from  the  formal  garden  the  gardeners  men- 
tioned play  hardly  so  important  a  part  as  do  Pope  and  Addison. 
The  great  influence  of  their  work,  coming  as  it  did  at  a  crisis 
time,  has  been  recognized  by  most  students  of  the  garden. 
Blomfield  says  :^  "  It  now  became  the  fashion  to  rave  about 
nature,  and  to  condemn  the  straightforward  work  of  the  formal 
school  as  so  much  brutal  sacrilege.  Pope  and  Addison  led  the 
way  with  about  as  much  love  of  nature  as  the  elegant  Abbe 
Delille  some  three  generations  later."  In  Famous  Parks  and 
Gardens  Pope  is  spoken  of  as  "  the  prophet  of  the  new  school." 

'  Thomas  Whateley  or  Wheatley  :  Observations  on  Modern  Gardening,  1770. 
^  Blomfield  &  Thomas  :  The  Formal  Garden  in  England,  p.  80. 


\ 


1 84  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

Mason  in  his  English  Garden  calls  Kent  "  Pope's  bold  asso- 
ciate." Walpole  dwells  on  the  assistance  Kent  had  from  Pope 
and  he  thinks  that  the  ideas  of  Kent's  best  works  were  really  bor- 
rowed from  Pope's  garden  at  Twickenham.  Hazlitt  emphasizes 
"  the  healthy  and  important  influence  for  good  in  this  direc- 
tion '"  exercised  by  Pope.  In  the  Review  of  Repton's  work  in 
The  Quarterly  for  1816  we  find  the  following  :  "  Pope  attacked 
the  prevailing  style  with  his  keenest  shafts  of  ridicule. 

He  so  completely  developed  the  true  principles  of  gar- 
dening that  the  theories  of  succeeding  writers  have  been  little 
more  than  amplifications  of  his  short  general  precepts."  Court- 
hope  says  that  the  principles  laid  down  in  Pope's  writings  and 
exemplified  in  his  garden^  were  really  the  basis  on  which  the  new 
school  worked.  And  finally ,2  Biese  quotes  Pope's  famous  maxim 
and  attributes  to  him  and  to  Addison  much  influence  in  bring- 
ing about  the  return  to  nature  in  the  art  of  gardening. 

A  few  brief  quotations  will  serve  to  illustrate  the  tone  adopted 
by  Pope  and  Addison. 

"  There  is  something  more  bold  and  masterly  in  the  rough 
careless  strokes  of  nature  than  in  the  nice  touches  and  embellish- 
ments of  art.  The  beauties  of  the  most  stately  garden  or  palace 
lie  in  a  narrow  compass,  the  imagination  immediately  runs  them 
over,  and  requires  something  else  to  gratify  her ;  but,  in  the  wild 
fields  of  nature,  the  sight  wanders  up  and  down  without  confine- 
ment, and  is  fed  with  an  infinite  variety  of  images."'* 

"  I  do  not  know  whether  I  am  singular  in  my  opinion,  but, 
for  my  own  part,  I  would  rather  look  upon  a  tree  in  all  its  luxu- 
riancy  and  diffusion  of  boughs  and  branches,  than  when  it  is  thus 
cut  and  trimmed  into  a  mathematical  figure  ;  and  can  not  but 
fancy  that  an  orchard  in  flower  looks  infinitely  more  delightful 
than  all  the  little  labyrinths  of  the  most  finished  parterre."* 
"My  compositions  in  gardening  are  altogether  after  the  Pindaric 

'  Hazlitt:  Gleanings  in  Old  Garden  Literature,  p.  66  (ed.  1887). 
-  Famous  Parks  and  Gardens,  p.  134  (description  of  Twickenham). 
i  Biese  :  Die  Entwickelung  des  NaturgefUhls,  pp.  290-293. 
*  Addison  :  The  Spectator,  No.  414  (1712). 
5  Addison  :  Spectator,  414  (1712). 


GARDENING  185 

manner,  and  run  into  the  beautiful  wildness  of  nature  without 
affecting  the  nicer  elegancies  of  art."'  Of  more  importance  is 
Pope's  'io.oxrviViX  Essay  on  Verdant  Sculpture.-  "There  is  certainly 
something,"  he  says,  "  in  the  amiable  simplicity  of  unadorned 
Nature  that  spreads  over  the  mind  a  more  noble  sort  of  tran- 
quillity, and  a  loftier  sensation  of  pleasure,  than  can  be  raised 
from  the  nicer  scenes  of  Art.  ...  I  believe  it  is  no  wrong 
observation  that  persons  of  genius,  and  those  who  are  most  capa- 
ble of  Art,  are  always  most  fond  of  Nature.  On  the  contrary, 
people  of  the  common  level  of  understanding  are  principally 
delighted  with  the  little  niceties  and  fantastical  operations  of  Art, 
and  constantly  think  that  finest  which  is  the  least  natural."  Then 
follows  the  famous  sarcasm  on  the  eminent  town  gardener,  who 
was  prepared  to  furnish  all  sorts  of  imagery  in  evergreen,  even  to 
cutting  family  pieces  of  men,  women,  and  children. 

These  noteworthy  utterances  by  Pope  and  Addison  come,  it 
will  be  observed,  in  the  years  1712,  171 3,  and  Twickenham  was 
completed  before  1718.^  Kent  did  not  return  from  his  first  visit 
to  Italy  till  1 7 19,  and  his  work  on  gardens  comes  later,  his  most 
important  works  falling  probably  between  1730  and  1748,  the 
date  of  his  death. 

Bridgeman,  though  ahead  of  Kent  in  theoretical  expres- 
sion, was  really  his  contemporary,  for  we  find  them  men- 
tioned as  working  together  on  some  gardens,  as  Stowe,  at  the 
time  when  Brown  was  kitchen  gardener  there,  and  so  probably 
after  1735.  Brown's  (17 15-1783)  work  begins  during  the  last 
years  of  Kent's  life.  Hence  Pope  and  Addison  antedated  the 
work  of  the  practical  gardeners  by  some  years.  The  final  and 
authoritative  statement  of  Pope's  principles  did  not  come,  how- 
ever, till  1 731,  when  the  idcswow^  Fourth  Epistle  was  published. 
Besides  his  scornful  description  of  the  formal  garden  he  gave 
certain  precepts,  the  underlying  thought  of  which  is  that  gardens 
should  so  be  made  as  to  conceal  all  traces  of  man's  interference. 
This  Essay  marked  a  crisis  in  the  theory  of  gardening,  as  Thom- 

'  Addison:  Spectator,  477  (1712^. 

2  Pope:  The  Guardian,  173  (1713). 

3  Letter  to  Jervas,  Dec.  12,  17 18.     Pope  ;  Works,  4  :  494. 


1 86  TKEA  TMENT  OF  NA TURK  IN  ENGLISH  POETR  V 

son's  Seasofis  had  marked  the  ciUmination  of  the  interest  in 
nature  shown  here  and  there  in  the  poetry  of  the  preceding 
years. 

Two  years  before  the  publication  of  this  £ssay  there  had  come 
from  Allan  Ramsay  a  eulogy  of  wild  gardens. 

"Compar'd  with  prime  cut  plots  and  nice, 
Where  Nature  has  to  Art  resign'd 
Till  all  looks  mean,  stiff,  and  confin'd."' 

Among  the  early  imitations  of  Pope's  Essay  is  Mr.  Bram- 
ston's  Man  of  Taste,  1733,  and  Cawthorn's  Essay  on  Taste,  1739. 
They  are  of  value  only  as  indicating  the  spread  of  the  new  ideas. 
Cawthorn's  precepts,  such  as — 

"  Examine  nature  with  the  eye  of  taste  ; 

Mark  where  she  spreads  the  lawn,  or  pours  the  rill. 
Falls  in  the  vale,  or  breaks  upon  the  hill  ; 
Plan  as  she  plans," 

will  illustrate  the  many  weak  expansions  of  Pope's  rules. 

The  second  step  in  landscape  gardening  seems  to  have  been 
the  Ferme  orne.  Here  there  was  not  merely  a  breaking  of  the 
line  of  demarkation  between  garden  and  park,  but  there  was  an 
endeavor  to  ornament  the  whole  estate.  One  of  the  earliest 
attempts  of  this  sort  was  by  Mr.  Southcote,  on  whom  Mason's 
muse  bestowed  "no  vulgar  praise."  But  the  most  successful,  as 
well  as  the  most  famous  Ferme  orne,  was  that  of  the  poet  Shen- 
stone  at  Leasowes.  Mason  spoke  of  Shenstone  as  "  one  who 
knew  how  to  harmonize  his  shade  still  softer  than  his  song,"  and 
it  is  quite  possible  that  his  practical  example  at  Leasowes  helped 
on  the  return  to  nature  as  effectively  as  his  poetry.  As  the  first 
really  successful  experiment  in  landscape  gardening  Shenstone's 
place  called  forth  much  comment,  and  usually  of  an  admiring 
sort.  Dr.  Johnson  publishes  nine  of  the  poetical  tributes  to  the 
place.  Dodsley's  description  of  Leasowes,  usually  bound  with 
Shenstone's  works,  is  the  one  that  later  stirred  Sir  Walter  Scott's 
ambition  to  own  a  place.*     The  point  to  be  noted  here  is  that  all 

'  Ramsay's  Answer  to  the  Foregoing  (Epistle  from  Somerville). 
-  "  I  can  trace,  even  to  childhood,  a  pleasure  derived  from  Dodsley's  descrip- 
tion of  Shenstone's  Leasowes ;    and  I  envied  the  poet  much  more  for  the  pleas- 


GARDENING  187 

tributes  unite  in  eulogizing  the  skill  with  which  the  art  of  the 

gardener  was  hidden, 

"  While  Nature  shines  so  gracefully  revealed  / 

That  she  triumphant  claims  the  total  plan, 
And,  with  fresh  pride,  adopts  the  work  of  man." 

In  Shenstone's  The  Progress  of  Taste  we  have  a  full  account 
of  his  absorption  in  the  work  of  beautifying  his  estate  according 
to  the  new  principle.  All  was  done  for  the  sake  of  beauty. 
Nothing  made  the  poet  more  indignant  than  to  be  asked  the  use 
of  any  of  his  improvements.  In  spite  of  the  unnatural  striving 
after  natural  effects,  and  the  accumulation  of  historic  and  sym- 
bolic incongruities,  we  cannot  fail  to  see  that  this  estate  illustrates 
a  rapid  advance  in  the  appreciative  regard  for  the  beauty  and 
jC  freedom  of  nature.  Shenstone's  garden  was  in  its  prime  between 
174S  and  1756.  His  Unconnected  Thoughts  on  a  Garden,  pub- 
lished in  1764,  was  a  valuable  contribution  to  the  literature  on 
the  subject.'  Two  remarkable  essavs  appeared  in  1770  and  in 
1 77 1.  The  first  was  Observations  on  Modern  Gardening,  by 
Whateley.     It  summed  up  in  masterly  fashion  the  principles  and 

ure  of  accomplishing  the  objects  detailed  in  his  friend's  sketch  of  his  grounds, 
than  for  the  possession  of  pipe,  crook,  flock,  and  Phyllis  to  boot."  Quoted  by 
Hugh  Miller.  For  full  prose  description  of  Leasowes  and  the  neighboring 
place,  Hagley,  see  Hugh  Miller's  Impressions  of  England  and  English  People, 
pp.  147  -169,  95  -132.  See  also  A  Poet's  Garden,  by  Goldsmith,  for  a  descrip- 
tion of  Leasowes  gone  to  decay.  For  an  interesting  supposed  conversation 
between  Shenstone  and  a  utilitarian  cockney  visitor  see  Blackwood's,  14:262 
(1823;.  For  another  early  description  see  Letters  on  the  Beauties  of  Hagley, 
Envil,  and  the  Leasowes,  by  Joseph  Heeley,  1777.  See  also  poetical  descrip- 
tions in  Woodhouse's  Poems  and  in  Giles'  Miscellanies.  See  also  Mr.  Wheat- 
ley  in  On  Gardening  (1770).  He  said  that  Leasowes  was  a  jierfect  picture  of 
the  poet's  mind.  The  influence  and  fame  of  this  garden  are  indicated  by  the 
fact  that  the  Marquis  de  Girardin  at  Ermenonville  called  his  own  place  "The 
Leasowes  of  FVance."  Anderson,  in  his  Preface  to  Shenstone's  Works,  says 
that  the  planning  of  pleasure  grounds  in  the  manner  of  Leasowes  "seems  to 
require  as  great  powers  of  mind  as  those  which  we  admire  in  the  descriptive 
poems  of  Thomson,  or  in  the  noble  landscapes  of  Salvator  Rosa,  or  the  Pous- 
sins." 

'  See  J.  C.  Loudon's  Preface  to  H.  Repton's  Landscape  Gardening.  Down- 
ing in  Landscape  Gardening,  p.  20,  says  that  the  term  Landscape  Gardening 
was  first  used  in  Shenstone's  essay. 


1 88         TREATMENT  OE  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

achievements  of  the  new  school.  The  other  was  by  Horace  Wal- 
pole.  He  had  been  at  work  on  it,  at  intervals,  for  nine  years 
when  Whateley's  essay  appeared.  It  is  entitled  On  Modern  Gar- 
dening and  is  one  of  his  most  brilliant  productions.  Its  denun- 
ciation of  the  formal  garden  is  an  admirable  statement  of  the 
principles  on  which  that  garden  was  formed.  He  gives  unquali- 
fied praise  to  Bridgeman,  Kent,  and  Brown.  In  1772  appeared 
the  first  portion  of  Mason's  English  Garden,^  a  long  didactic 
poem  in  four  books.  It  is  heterogeneous  in  character,  but,  in 
one  way  or  another,  contrives  to  sum  up  about  all  that  had  yet 
been  said  or  thought  on  the  garden. 

Shenstone's  garden  was  somewhat  too  ornate  to  be  a  true 
example  of  the  school  of  Kent.  That  school  of  Brown  and  his 
followers  was  really  dominant  till  late  in  the  century.  But  along 
with  this  was  growing  up  another  school  of  which  Leasowes  was  a 
sort  of  faint  prophecy.  This  is  known  as  the  Picturesque  School. 
It  had  its  origin  in  a  natural  revolt  from  the  bareness  and  uni- 
formity characteristic  of  much  of  the  work  of  the  Kent  School. 
The  dictum  of  the  new  school  was  that  whatever  looks  well  in  a 
picture  will  look  well  in  a  landscape.  Kent's  smooth  lawns,  and 
uniform  curves  and  level  surfaces,  and  clumps,  and  belts,  did  not 
compose  well  and  so  they  were  ruled  out.  The  forerunner  of  the 
new  school  was  William  Gilpin.  The  record  of  his  travels,''  his 
attractive  studies  of  wild  scenery,  his  steady  adoption  of  the 
painter's  point  of  view,  and  his  criticism  of  various  places  as 
unpicturesque,  doubtless  did  much  to  stimulate  the  dislike  of  the 
tameness  of  Kent  and  Brown.  That  Gilpin  had  no  intention 
of  throwing  discredit  on  the  existing  school  is  evident  from  his  high 
praise  of  Brown's  work  at  Blenheim.  The  same  cannot  be  said 
of  Knight  and  Price,  the  real  champions  of  the  picturesque.  They 
belong  in  1794,  and  the  Picturesque  School  goes  down  before  the 
Gardenesque  School  in  the  hot  controversy  between  Knight  and 
Price  on  the  one  side  and  Humphrey  Repton  on  the  other.  There 

'  This  poem  appears  to  have  been  published  in  parts  in  1772,  1777,  1779, 
1782,  but  a  note  to  Book  3  says  that  it  was  begun  a  few  months  after  Gray's 
death  in  1 771. 

^  See  the  section  on  Travels. 


GARDENING  189 

was  nothing  too  severe  for  Knight  and  Price  to  say  of  Kent  and 
Brown.'  Knight  says  that  he  became  so  weary  of  the  extensive 
scene  so  dull  and  bare,  of  the  flat,  insipid,  waving  plains,  of  the 
uniform,  eternal  green,  in  gardening  as  then  conducted,  that  he 
would  have  gladly  welcomed  back  the  old  straight  lines  and 
clipped  yews  and  formal  terraces.  He  hates  "shaven  and  shorn" 
scenery.  He  prefers  it  in  its  rough,  undressed  state.  Mr. 
Price  says  in  prose  with  almost  equal  heat  what  his  friend 
has  put  into  verse.  The  chief  point  of  their  controversy  with 
Mr.  Repton  is  on  the  closeness  of  the  union  of  the  arts  of 
painting  and  gardening.  Mr.  Gilpin,  Mr.  Mason,  Mr.  Knight,  and 
Mr.  Price  had  all  said.  Study  pictures  of  great  artists  if  you  wish 
to  know  how  to  manage  your  trees,  your  lights  and  shades,  your 
colors,  in  a  landscape.  Repton  said  landscape  gardening  was  an 
art  by  itself,  and  that  the  landscape  might  choose  and  refuse  and 
combine  details  in  away  not  suited  to  a  picture.  Repton's  system 
would  carry  us  into  the  nineteenth  century.  It  is  sufficient  to  say 
that  he  combined  and  modified  the  principles  that  had  been 
growing  up  through  the  century  in  such  a  way  as  to  establish  the 
beautiful  parks  and  gardens  in  which  England  led  the  world.'' 

The  picturesque  garden  had  two  offshoots  that  cannot  be 
passed  over.  The  idea  of  imitating  a  picture,  when  carried  to  an 
excess,  led  to  frantic  efforts  to  put  cliffs,  precipices,  gnarled  oaks, 
ruined,  moss-grown  fortresses,  mouldering,  ivy-hung  abbeys,  into 
every  landscape.  Frequent  sage  advice  is  given  as  to  the  best  way 
to  secure  these  effects.  Richard  Jago,  a  friend  of  Shenstone, 
urges  the  importance  of  appropriate  sites — a  cliff  for  a  ruined 
castle,  a  well  water'd  vale  for  "the  mouldering  abbey's  fretted 
windows."^      Five  years  later  Mr.  Gilpin  criticised  Shuckburgh 

'  Richard  Payne  Knight :  The  Landscape. 

Sir  Uvedale  Price  :  An  Essay  on  the  Picturesque. 

^'The  influence  and  significance  of  the  English  Garden  is  well  indicated  in 
these  words  of  Taine  (Voyage  en  Italic) : 

"  Aussi  les  iardins  anglais,  tels  qu'on  les  importe  chez  nous  a  present,  indi- 
quent  I'avenementd'une  autre  race,  la  domination  d'un  autre  gout,  larfegne  d'une 
autre  littdrature,  I'ascendant  d'un  autre  esprit,  plus  comprehensif,  plus  solitaire, 
plus  aisdment  fatigue,  plus  tourn^  vers  les  choses  du  dedans."     Vol.  i  :  232. 

3  Edge  Hill  or  the  Rural  Prospect  Delineated  and  Moralized  (1767).     In  this 


190         TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  EN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

because  the  ruins  were  not  happily  "fabricated,"  but  he  adds  in 
exculpation,  "  It  is  not  every  man,  who  can  build  a  house,  that 
can  execute  a  ruin."  Then  follows  a  long  list  of  the  mechanical 
difficulties,  with  the  following  conclusion,  "When  it  is  well  done, 
we  allow,  that  nothing  can  be  more  beautiful :  but  we  see  every- 
where so  many  absurd  attempts  of  this  kind,  that  when  we  walk 
through  a  piece  of  improved  ground;  and  hear  of  being  carried 
next  to  see  the  ruins,  if  the  master  of  the  scene  be  with  us,  we 
dread  the  incounter."  Mr.  Mason  deprecates  building  ruins  but 
thinks  a  man  to  be  congratulated,  if  on  his  grounds 

"one  superior  rock 
Bear  on  its  brow  the  shivered  fragment  huge 
Of  some  old  Norman  fortress ;  happier  far, 
Oh,  then  most  happy,  if  thy  vale  below 
Wash,  with  the  crystal  coolness  of  its  rills, 
Some  mouldering  abbey's  ivy-vested  wall."' 

This  search  after  ruins  and  their  appropriate  scenic  accom- 
paniments was  a  morbid  and  exaggerated  development  of  the  new 
love  of  the  picturesque  and  wild  in  nature  just  as  the  sentimental 
melancholy  phase  of  poetry  was  a  morbid  and  exaggerated  devel- 
opment of  the  new  poetic  turning  to  the  wild  and  solitary.  In 
the  exaggerated  form  both  phases  were  ephemeral,  and  it  is  inter- 
esting to  observe  that  they  were  manifested  at  about  the  same 
time.  Mr.  Phelps  gives  1740  to  1760  as  the  dates  between  which 
the  sentimental  melancholy  spirit  flourished  in  poetry.  In  1767 
we  find  rules  for  building  the  ruins  so  much  desired.  The  custom 
must  have  antedated  these  rules,  given  as  they  are  as  if  for  some- 
thing well  established,  by  some  years  at  least.  And  from  the  very 
nature  of  the  case,  the  same  mental  impulse  would  show  both  its 
rise  and  decline  more  promptly  in  poetry  than  in  buildings." 

poem  Jago  describes  the  country  seats  of  fift)'  gentlemen.     The  most  important 
are  Farnborough,  Packington,  Shuckburgh,  and   Leasowes. 

'  The  English  Garden. 

^  Blase  in  commenting  on  the  profusion  of  fantastic  buildings,  of  temples 
dedicated  to  friendship  and  love  and  poetry  and  melancholy,  finds  them  merely 
the  appropriate  and  inevitable  background  of  "  die  sentimentalen,  in  Thranen 
zerfliessenden  Freundschaftsbiindnisse "  of  the  times.  Die  Entwickelung  des 
Naturgefiihls,  p.  292. 


GARDENING  191 

The  subject  of  oriental  gardens  was  also  much  discussed  in 
prose  and  verse.  Sir  William  Chambers  was  the  first  important 
champion  of  the  methods  of  Chinese  gardens.  He  liked  the 
"fancies  and  surprises"  of  Chinese  effects  and  thought  that  Kent's 
plans  made  English  gardens  "  no  better  than  so  many  fields."  His 
essay  appeared  in  1757.'  Goldsmith's  Description  of  a  Chinese 
Garden  came  out  in  1760.  In  1772  came  Sir  William  Chambers' 
Dissertation  on  Oriental  Gardens.  This  brought  out  two  replies 
from  Mason  in  1773  and  1774.  The  best  practical  illustration 
of  this  style  of  gardening  was  to  be  seen  at  Kew  Gardens  which 
Chambers  remodeled.  On  the  whole,  however,  oriental  garden- 
ing was  a  fad  that  soon  passed  away  without  having  exerted  much 
influence.  It  is  significant  of  the  turning  towards  far  countries, 
the  romantic  interest  in  the  new  and  the  remote,  and  is  to  be 
classed  as  a  sign  with  the  oriental  and  eastern  Eclogues  in  the 
poetry  of  the  period. 

Incomplete  and  cursory  as  so  short  a  study  of  so  great  a  sub- 
ject must  be,  the  facts  here  presented  seem  to  warrant  the  follow- 
ing statements  : 

The  feeling  toward  nature  in  the  period  studied  shows  m 
gardening  the  same  order  of  development,  nearly  the  same  dates, 
and  the  same  phases  as  in  poetry.  There  was  first  in  both  a 
pleased  recognition  of  the  supremacy  of  man,  a  rigid  exclusive- 
ness,  a  love  of  order,  and  symmetry,  and  of  definite  limits.  Then 
came,  in  the  early  eighteenth  century,  a  tentative  turning  from  art  to 
nature  ;  then  an  epoch-making  statement  in  each  art,  Thomson's 
Seasons  from  1726  to  1730,  and  Pope's  Epistle  in  1731.  From 
this  point  on  the  development  was  in  mass  and  variety  rather  than 
in  the  enunciation  of  new  principles.  The  growing  love  for  wild 
nature  in  the  poetry,  and   the  passion  for  the  picturesque  in  gar- 

'  The  rage  for  Chinese  buildings  began  earlier  than  this  for  in  The  World 
March  27,  175S,  is  a  plea  by  Marriott  for  an  "anti-Chinese  society."  See  also 
a  similar  letter  in  Feb.  1754.  For  a  similar  taste  in  furniture  see  a  letter  in 
March,  1753.  In  April,  1753,  Coventry  satirizes  the  Chinese  bridges  and  build- 
ings in  gardens.  Even  so  far  back  as  Sir  William  Temple  much  had  been  said 
about  Chinese  gardens.  For  criticism  of  their  artificiality  see  Walpole's  C)n 
Modern  Gardening.  For  a  defense  of  the  Chinese  theory  as  an  attempt  to  fol- 
low nature  see  Humboldt's  Kosmos. 


1 9  2         TREA  TMEN  T  OF  NA  TURE  IN  ENGLISH  FOE  TR  Y 

dening  proceed  side  by  side.  At  the  end  of  the  century  all  is 
ready  in  both  arts  for  the  splendid  work  of  the  new  era.  Through- 
out the  century  both  have  had  curiously  correspondent  offshoots 
or  temporary  fads  —  sentimental  melancholy  in  poetry,  and  the 
ruins,  artificial  and  real,  in  gardening;  foreign  eclogues  and 
studies  of  distant  countries  in  the  one  art,  and  Chinese  gardens 
in  the  other. 


CHAPTER    IV 


TRAVELS. 


It  is  impossible  to  do  more  here  than  merely  to  sketch  the 
possibilities  in  a  "  History  of  the  Tour  and  the  Guide  Book," 
because  the  mass  of  material  to  be  gone  over  is  so  great.  Pink- 
erton's  Catalogue  of  Voyages  and  Travels,  published  in  1814, 
gives  over  4500  books.  It  is  so  elaborately  tabulated  that  it  is 
not  easy  to  use,  but  it  is  possible  to  cull  from  its  voluminous 
pages  a  fairly  compendious  list  of  such  travels  as  were  published 
in  England  in  the  eighteenth  century.  In  this  list  there  are  about 
360  books.  Of  these  360  books  all  but  84  are  travels  outside  of 
Great  Britain  and  Ireland.  Their  distribution  through  the  century 
indicates  a  steady  growth  of  interest  in  foreign  lands,  for  nearly 
half  of  the  accounts  of  travels  in  other  countries  belong  in  the 
last  quarter  of  the  century.  The  same  pushing  out  of  the 
romantic  spirit  in  its  curiosity  to  know  the  remote  is  shown  by 
another  interesting  transfer  of  emphasis,  half  of  the  Travels 
before  1750  being  devoted  to  Great  Britain  and  Ireland,  while 
after  1775,  less  than  one-fifth  of  the  whole  number  is  given  up  to 
home  explorations.  But  these  foreign  tours,  however  interest- 
ing as  one  note  of  Romanticism,  are  outside  the  present  field  of 
inquiry.  They  were  undertaken  usually  with  some  definite  pur- 
pose. Antiquities,  curiosities,  minerals;  laws,  manners,  customs; 
utilitarian  possibilities  —  these  were  the  leading  subjects  of 
inquiry.  In  the  titles  such  phrases  as,  "relating  chiefly  to  the 
history,  antiquities,  and  geography  ;  "  "  remarks  on  Characters  and 
Manners;"  "chiefly  relative  to  the  knowledge  of  mankind, 
industry,  literature,  and  natural  history;"  "with  an  account 
of  the  most  memorable  sieges;"  "containing  a  great  variety 
of  geographical,  topographical  and  political  observations;" 
"containing  specially  a  description  of  fortified    towns;"  "con- 

193 


1 9  4  TKEA  TMENT  OF  NA  TUKE  IN  ENGLISH  FOE  FR  \ ' 

taining  a  Picture  of  the  Country,  the  Manners,  and  the 
Actual  Government,"  are  of  constant  recurrence  and  serve 
to  mark  out  the  general  scope  of  these  works.  There  are, 
to  be  sure,  in  these  books,  many  scattered  descriptions  of  the 
natural  scenes  visited.  This  is  especiallv  true  of  the  Travels 
in  the  last  quarter  of  the  centurv.  But  to  study  these  descriu- 
tions,  even  superficially,  would  be  too  wide  a  work  for  the 
present  limits.  Furthermore,  the  accounts  of  the  tours  made  in 
the  United  Kingdom  will  doubtless  reveal  the  characteristics  of 
the  observations  made  in  foreign  lands. 

One  of  the  early  books  of  English  travel  in  the  eighteenth 
century  is  Mr.  Martin's  Description  of  the  Wester/i  Islands  of  Scot- 
land {i']o^).  It  is  this  book  that  stirred  Dr.  Johnson  to  make  his 
visit  to  the  Hebrides,  and  it  is  from  this  that  Mallet  drew  the 
details  for  his  Amyntor  and  Theodora.  In  the  Preface  Martin 
says  : 

"Perhaps  it  is  peculiar  to  those  isles,  that  they  have  never 
been     described  till     now    by    any  man    that   was    a    native  of 

the   country,  or    had    traveled    them 

"Descriptions  of  countries,  without  the  natural  histories  of 
them,  are  now  justly  reckoned  to  be  defective.  This  I  had  a 
particular  regard  to  in  the  following  descriptions,  and  have  every- 
where taken  notice  of  the  nature  of  the  climate  and  soil,  and  of 
the  remarkable  cures  performed  by  the  natives  merely  by  the  use 
of  simples." 

This  preliminary  promise  of  first-hand  observation,  especially 
so  far  as  nature  is  concerned,  is  hardly  carried  out.  The  book  is 
a  credulous,  entertaining,  unsifted  narrative  of  whatever  marvels 
came  to  his  ears.  His  interest  rested  chiefly  on  strange  cures 
made  by  the  use  of  "simples."  The  Description  has  the  negative 
im])ortance  of  entirely  ignoring  nature.  In  its  120  pages  there 
as  not  a  word  or  phrase  in  recognition  of  the  wild  and  beautiful 
scenery  in  these  islands. 

The  same  distinction  holds  of  Brand's  Brief  Description  of 
Orkney,  Zetland,  Pightland-Firth,  and  Caithness  (1701).  Brand 
was  one  of  a  commission  sent  by  the  General  Assembly  to 
inquire  into  religious  matters  in  the  northern  islands,  so  it  is  not 


TRAVELS  195 

1 

Strange  that  he  bestows  much  attention  on  heathenish  and  popish 
rites,  charms,  and  superstitions.  He  is  also  much  interested 
in  the  prevailing  diseases  and  the  means  of  cure  employed  by 
the  natives.  And  he  says  much  of  their  customs,  manners,  and 
personal  appearance.  He  describes  the  crops,  the  climate,  the 
favorite  articles  of  food,  but  his  eyes  are  holden  to  the  charms  of 
scenery. 

In  1 715  appeared  Alexander  Pennecuik's  Description  of 
Tiveeddale.  He  was  a  physician  and  for  thirty  years  his  employ- 
ment had  obliged  him  to  know  and  observe  every  corner  of 
Tweeddale.  He  found  great  pleasure  in  "  herbalizing  shady 
groves  and  mountains,"  and  the  chief  value  of  his  work  is 
accordingly  in  its  numerous  botanical  observations.  Not  a  stray 
sentence  indicates  pleasure  in  the  beauty  of  the  Lowland  moun- 
tains. 

Except  for  the  work  of  Brand,  Martin,  and  Pennecuik,  the 
first  half  of  the  century  shows  but  a  meager  list  of  travels. 
Besides  eight  Tours  published  anonymously,  Pinkerton  records 
only  Gordon's  Itinerarium  Septentrionale  (in  Scotland  and  North- 
ern England)  in  1726,  and  Macky's  Journey  through  England  \w. 
1732.  In  1762  appeared  Hamilton's  Letters  from  Antrim,  the 
chief  subject  of  which  was  announced  to  be  "  the  Natural  His- 
tory of  the  Basaltes."  Mr.  Hamilton  spoke  occasionally  of  the 
beautiful  and  picturesque  appearance  of  the  Irish  coast,  but  he 
professed  himself  an  advocate  of  Mr.  Locke's  system  of  a  dic- 
tionary of  pictures  in  preference  to  a  dictionary  of  tedious 
descriptions.  From  1764  to  1769  Mr.  Bushe  added  his  contri- 
bution to  Irish  Travels,  the  objects  dwelt  upon  in  his  Hibcrna 
Curiosa  being  "  Manners,  observations  on  the  state  of  Trade  and 
Agriculture,  and  Natural  Curiosities." 

Much  of  the  work  in  Travels  or  Tours  in  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury is  thrown  into  the  form  of  familiar  letters.  By  far  the  most 
important  of  these  tourists'  letters  from  the  present  point  of  view 
is  Dr.  Brown's  description  of  Keswick  in  a  letter  to  Lyttleton. 
This  letter  was  published  in  1772,  but  its  date  is  difficult  to 
determine.  It  was  before  1766,  for  that  is  the  year  of  the 
author's  death.      Even  this  date  puts  it  with  _/<?////  Buncle  and  Dr. 


196         TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POEIRY 

Dalton's  Descriptive  Poem  as  being  one  of  the  three  earliest 
descriptions  of  the  Lake  Region.'  Since  it  is  so  little  known 
some  unusually  long  extracts  from  it  may  be  of  value. 

"  But  at  Keswick,  you  will  on  one  side  of  the  lake,  see  a  rich 
and  beautiful  landskip  of  cultivated  fields.  .  .  .  On  the 
opposite  shore  you  will  find  rocks  and  cliffs  of  stupendous  height, 
hanging  broken  over  the  lake  in  horrible  grandeur,  some  of 
them  a  thousand  feet  high  ;  the  woods  climb  up  their  steep  and 
shaggy  sides,  where  mortal  foot  never  yet  approached  :  on  these 
dreadful  heights  the  eagles  build  their  nests ;  a  variety  of  water- 
falls are  seen  pouring  from  their  summits  and. tumbling  from 
rock  to  rock,  in  rude  and  terrible  magnificence,  while  on  all  sides 
of  this  immense  amphitheatre  the  lofty  mountains  rise  around, 
piercing  the  clouds  in  shapes  as  spiry  and  fantastic  as  the  very 
rocks  of  Dovedale.  To  this  I  must  add  the  frequent  and  bold 
projection  of  the  cliffs  into  the  lake,  forming  noble  bays  and 
promontories  ;  in  other  parts  they  finely  retire  from  it  and  often 
open  in  abrupt  chasms  or  clefts,  through  which  at  hand  you  see 
rich  and  uncultivated  vales,  and,  beyond  these,  at  various  dis- 
tance, mountain  rising  over  mountain,  among  which,  new  pros- 
pects present  themselves  in  mist,  till  the  eve  is  lost  in  an  agree- 
able perplexity, 

Where  active  fancy  travels  beyond  sense 

And  pictures  things  unseen — . 

Were  I  to  analyze  the  two  places  in  their  constituent  principles, 
I  should  tell  you  that  the  full  perfection  of  Keswick  consists  of 
three  circumstances,  beauty,  horror,  and  immensity  united  ;  .  .  . 
to  give  you  a  complete  idea  of  these  three  perfections,  as  they 
are    joined    in    Keswick,   would    require    the    united    powers    of 

'  I  have  been  unable  to  find  the  exact  date  of  this  letter,  but  in  all  probabil- 
ity it  antedates  The  Life  of  John  Buncle  and  the  Descriptive  Poem  by  some  years. 
It  was  probably  before  1760,  because  at  that  time  occurred  the  quarrel  between 
Lyttleton  and  Brown.  It  seems  also  probable  that  it  was  before  1756,  because 
at  that  time  Dr.  Brown  took  the  living  at  Great  Horkesley,  near  Colchester. 
The  most  natural  period  for  the  Letter  is  between  1748  and  1754,  for  at  some 
time  during  that  period,  and  apparently  during  the  early  part  of  it,  Dr.  Brown 
held  the  living  of  Morland,  Westmoreland.  (See  Brown,  Osbaldiston,  Lyttle- 
ton in  Nat.  Diet,  of  Biog.  and  Memoir  of  Brown  in  British  Poets.) 


TRAVELS  197 

Claude,  Salvator,  and  Poussin.  The  first  should  throw  his  deli- 
cate sunshine  over  the  cultivated  fields,  the  scattered  cots,  the 
groves,  the  lake  and  wooded  islands.  The  second  should  dash 
out  the  horror  of  rugged  cliffs,  the  steeps,  the  hanging  woods 
and  foaming  waterfalls ;  while  the  grand  pencil  of  Poussin 
should  crown  the  whole  with  the  majesty  of  the  impending 
mountains. 

"  So  much  for  what  I  would  call  the  permanent  beauties  of  this 
astonishing  scene.  Were  I  not  afraid  of  being  tiresome  I  could 
now  dwell  as  long  on  its  varying  or  accidental  beauties. 
Sometimes  a  serene  air  and  clear  sky  disclose  the  tops  of  the 
highest  hills;  at  others,  you  see  the  clouds  involving  their  sum- 
mits, resting  on  their  sides  or  descending  to  their  base,  and  roll- 
ing among  the  valleys,  as  in  a  vast  furnace  ;  when  the  winds  are 
high,  they  roar  among  the  cliffs  and  caverns  like  peals  of  thun- 
der ;  then  too  the  clouds  are  seen  in  vast  bodies  sweeping  along 
the  hills  in  gloomy  greatness,  while  the  lake  joins  the  tumult  and 
tosses  like  a  sea ;  but  in  calm  weather  the  whole  scene  becomes 
new;  the  lake  is  a  perfect  mirror  and  the  landscape  in  all  its 
beauty,  islands,  fields,  woods,  rocks  and  mountains,  are  seen 
inverted  and  floating:  on  its  surface.  I  will  now  carry  you  to  the 
top  of  a  cliff,  where,  if  you  dare  approach  the  ridge,  a  new 
scene  of  astonishment  presents  itself ;  where  the  valley,  lake  and 
islands  are  seen  lying  at  your  feet ;  where  this  expanse  of  water 
appears  diminished  to  a  little  pool  amidst  the  vast  and  immeas- 
urable objects  that  surround  it ;  for  here  the  summits  of  more 
distant  hills  appear  beyond  those  you  have  already  seen  ;  and 
rising  behind  each  other  in  successive  ranges  and  azure  groups 
of  craggy  and  broken  steeps,  form  an  immense  and  awful  pic- 
ture, which  can  only  be  expressed  by  the  image  of  a  tempestuous 
sea  of  mountains.  Let  me  now  conduct  you  down  again  to  the 
valley  and  conclude  with  one  circumstance  more,  which  is,  that  a 
walk  by  still  moonlight  (at  which  time  the  distant  waterfalls  are 
heard  in  all  their  variety  of  sound)  among  these  enchanting  dales, 
opens  such  scenes  of  delicate  beauty,  repose  and  solemnity  as 
exceed  all  description." 

Mr.  Gilpin  was  evidently  familiar  with  Dr.  Brown's  Letter,  for 


1 9  S         TREA  TMENT  OE  NA  TURE  IN  ENGLISH  POE  7  R  Y 

in  his  Cumberland  Tour  (pub.  1786)  he  justified  his  own  prefer- 
ence for  Keswick  by  saying  that  this  region  had  also  been  singled 
out  by  Dr.  Brown,  "  who  was  a  man  of  taste  and  had  seen  every 
part  of  this  country."  Certainly  this  Letter  from  Keswick  in  the 
delight  with  which  it  dwells  on  the  wild  and  terrible  elements  of 
nature,  in  its  detailed  observation,  in  its  artistic  appreciation  of 
the  accidental  effects  of  atmospheric  conditions,  and  in  its  sensi- 
tiveness to  the  spirit  of  the  place,  comes  very  close  to  the  mod- 
ern enthusiasm  for  mountains.  The  details  are  sometimes 
exaggerated  and  the  author's  rapture  may  seem  over-stated,  but 
the  genuineness  of  his  feeling,  and  the  reality  of  his  knowledge 
of  mountains  and  lake,  must  remain  unquestioned.  The  Letter 
is  one  of  the  first,  and  the  most  considerable  of  the  early  contri- 
butions to  the  literature  of  the  Lakes. 

The  great  period  of  English  travels  began  in  1767  with 
Arthur  Young's  Six  Weeks''  Tour  i/i  the  Southern  Counties  of 
England  and  Wales.  In  1768  (June  to  November)  he  wrote  his 
Six  Months'  Tour  in  the  North  of  England.  His  next  important 
work,  A  Farmer'' s  Tour  through  the  East  of  England,  was  pub- 
lished in  1 77 1.  His  Tour  in  Lreland  appeared  in  1779.  The 
professed  design  of  these  sketches  was  husbandry.  Agriculture, 
industry,  population,  farming  experiments,  prices,  laws, — ^these 
were  the  topics  on  which  he  wished  to  inform  himself  and  others. 
He  had  apparently  no  thought  of  describing  the  country  through 
which  he  passed.  There  is  in  this  respect  a  significant  difference 
between  the  books  of  1767-8  and  that  of  1779.  In  the  first 
two  he  kept  the  text  rigorously  free  from  all  weakening  admix- 
ture of  landscape,  the  descriptions,  whether  of  picture  galleries 
or  scenery,  appearing  modestly  as  footnotes.  In  the  last 
the  descriptions  are  boldly  incorporated  into  the  text,  and 
form,  what  is  more,  a  surprisingly  large  proportion  of  it.  In 
1767-8  he  described  such  places  as  he  happened  to  pass  near.  In 
1779  he  followed  up  one  river  and  down  another  professedly  in 
search  of  "  wild  and  romantic  landscapes."  In  general  charac- 
ter the  descriptions  do  not  greatly  vary  in  the  three  books.  The 
most  numerous  descriptions  are  of  gentlemen's  estates,  perhaps 
in  courteous  repayment  of  hospitalities  received.     These  accounts 


TRAVELS  199 

are  always  detailed  and  often  tedious.  Young  apparently  went 
about  with  the  polite  owner,  sat  in  his  seats,  looked  down  his 
vistas,  observed  his  temples,  and  took  notes  thereon.  Our  chief 
interest  in  these  passages  is  the  testimony  they  bear  to  Young's 
own  preference  for  estates  where  art  had  done  the  least  and 
nature  most.  "  The  owner  has  had  the  good  judgment  merely  to 
assist  nature,"  or  "  merely  to  render  natural  beauties  accessible  " 
are  characteristic  words  of  praise.  The  best  descriptions  are  not, 
however,  of  estates,  but  of  grand  natural  scenes.  It  is  views 
from  Persfeld  on  the  Why  (Wye)  ;'  the  wild  country  along  the 
Tees  ;  the  English  Lakes  ;  the  waterfalls  and  wild  glens  near 
Powerscourt  ;  the  mountains  and  lakes  of  Killarney,  that  really 
stir  him.  Such  spots  he  describes  with  an  enthusiasm  that  never 
flags.  He  is  tediously  minute.  He  cannot  let  a  detail  escape. 
And  through  all  there  is  an  eager,  overflowing  delight,  a  raptu- 
rous pleasure  in  wild  scenery  such  as  we  find  in  no  traveler  before 
Young  except  Brown.  He  broods  over  a  fine  landscape.  He  is 
unwilling  to  lose  one  of  its  possible  charms.  At  Derwentwater 
he  rows  all  around  the  lake,  around  each  island,  stops  to  hunt  up 
unseen  waterfalls,  climbs  all  crags  that  promise  fine  views.  He 
is  indefatigable.  No  peril  stops  him.  He  wonders  why  the 
people  of  Keswick  do  not  at  once  cut  paths  to  the  fine  views  so 
that  no  one  need  miss,  them.  As  he  climbs  Skiddaw  he  laughs 
with  scorn  as  he  mentally  compares  "  the  effects  of  a  Louis'  mag- 
nificence to  the  play  of  nature  in  the  vale  of  Keswick."  His 
exclamation,  "  How  trifling  the  labors  of  art  to  the  mere  sport  of 
nature  I"  certainly  marks  a  rebound  from  conventional  standards. 
The  view  of  Winandermere  from  the  heights  on  the  eastern 
shore  is,  he  thinks,  "  the  most  superlative  view  that  nature  can 
exhibit"  or,  if  not,  she  is  "more  fertile  in  beauties"  than  his 
imagination  can  conceive.  "  To  ride  the  eighteen  miles  from 
Bernard  Castle  to  the  falls  of  the  Tees  one  could  well  afford,"  he 
says,  "  a  journey  of  a  thousand  miles  "  He  rides  out  to  Haws 
Water.  He  makes  a  close  study  of  Hulls  Water.  The  whole 
region  holds  him  with  a  fascination  nowhere  repeated  till  he  finds 

'  Young  explains  that  he    cannot  find  any  one  to  spell  the  names  for  him 
so  he  must  spell  them  as  they  are  pronounced. 


2  00  TREA  TMENT  OE  NA  TURE  IN  ENGLISH  FOE  TR  Y 

himself,  ten  years  later,  among  similar  wild  scenes  in  Ireland. 
Here,  almost  forgetting  that  he  is  a  scientific  farmer  in  search  of 
information,  he  wanders  along  the  picturesque  banks  of  the  Lif- 
fey,  the  Boyne,  the  Nore,  the  Boyle,  visits  Lake  Ennel,  Loch 
Earne,  the  lakes  of  Killarney,  and  writes  descriptions  in  the  man- 
ner of  the  most  voluminous  and  ardent  of  modern  sight-seers. 
Young's  significance  in  this  study  rests  not  so  much  on  any  artis- 
tic excellence  of  expression  as  on  his  wide  observation,  his  per- 
sonal enthusiasm  for  nature,  and  his  early  date. 

The  next  traveler  of  importance  was  Thomas  Gray.  The 
openness  of  Gray's  mind  to  pleasure  from  the  external  world  is 
hardly  at  all  indicated  in  his  poetry.  In  his  prose  we  find  it 
especially  in  the  Journal  in  the  Lakes  in  1769.  Thirty  years 
before  this,  his  Journal  in  France  had  given  some  hint  of  his 
taste  for  wild  scenery,  but  at  that  time,  though  he  expressed 
great  pleasure  in  the  "  magnificent  rudeness  "  of  the  Alps,  he  had 
not  entirely  broken  away  from  the  current  conceptions  and  the 
current  phraseology,  as  is  shown  by  the  sentence  :  "  You  here 
meet  with  all  the  beauties  so  savage  and  horrid  a  place  can  pre- 
sent you  with." 

Gray's  published  letters  extend  from  1739  to  1770.  Scat- 
tered through  these  are  occasional  passages  indicative  of  a  genu- 
ine love  of  nature.  In  the  midst  of  a  humorous  letter  to  Wal- 
pole  (Sept.  1737)  he  speaks  of  "venerable  beeches  .  .  .  . 
.  .  always  dreaming  out  their  old  stories  to  the  winds."  After 
he  came  back  from  Scotland,  in  1765,  he  wrote  to  Mr.  Mason  : 

"  I  am  returned  from  Scotland  charmed  with  my  expedition  ; 
it  is  of  the  Highlands  I  speak  ;  the  Lowlands  are  worth  seeing 
once,  but  the  mountains  are  ecstatic,  and  ought  to  be  visitedjji 
pilgrimage  once  a  year.     None  but  these  monstrous  creatures  of 


God  know  how  to  join  so  much  beauty  with  so  much  horror.  A 
fig  for  your  poets,  painters,  gardeners,  and  clergymen,  that  have 
not  been  up  among  them  ;  their  imagination  can  be  made  up  of 
nothing  but  bowling-greens,  flowering  shrubs,  horse-ponds,  Fleet 
ditches,  shell-grottoes,  and  Chinese  rails." 

So  early  as  1739  he  expressed  his  dislike  of  formal  gardens  in 
his  sarcastic  description  of  the  grounds  at  Versailles.     The  same 


TRAVELS  iai_ 

feeling  of  irritation  at  the  preponderance  of  art  over  nature 
recurs  in  his  description  of  Warwick  in  1754.  That  even  the 
most  natural  garden  did  not  satisfy  Gray  as  did  wild  nature  we 
see  from  Mason's  lines  written  just  after  the  death  of  Gray.  He 
evidently  had  not  approved  of  The  Garden  as  a  subject  for  a 
poem  and  Mason  represents  him  as  saying  : 

"  '  Why  waste  thy  numbers  on  a  trivial  art, 
That  ill  can  mimic  e'en  the  humblest  charms 
Of  all-majestic  Nature  ?'     At  the  words 
His  eye  would  glisten,  and  his  accents  glow 
With  all  the  poet's  frenzy.     '  Sovereign  Queen  ! 
Behold,  and  tremble,  while  thou  view'st  her  state 
Throned  on  the  heights  of  Skiddaw  ;  call  thy  art 
To  build  her  such  a  throne  ;  that  art  will  feel 
How  vain  her  best  pretensions.     Trace  her  march 
Amid  the  purple  crags  of  Borrowdale,'  "  etc. 

In  general,  however,  the  testimony  of  the  letters  is  to  a  scientific 
rather  than  a  poetic  love  of  nature.  There  are  many  exact  rec- 
ords of  the  weather,  of  the  coming  crops,  of  the  blossoming  of 
flowers.  A  single  example  may  serve  as  typical.  It  is  a  record 
of  observations  made  at  Stoke  Pogis  in  July  1754. 

"  Barley  was  in  ear  on  the  first  day  ;  gray  and  white  peas  in 
bloom.  The  bean  flowers  were  going  off.  Duke-cherries  in 
plenty  on  the  5th  ;  hearts  were  also  ripe.  Green  melons  on  the 
6th,  but  watry  and  not  sweet.  Currants  began  to  ripen  on  the 
8th,  and  red  gooseberries  had  changed  color." 

And  so  on  with  nearly  a  hundred  more  of  these  tabulated 
natural  facts. 

Of  Gray  as  a  traveler  Sir  James  Mackintosh  is  quoted  by 
Mitford  as  saying  : 

"  Gray  was  \.\iq.  first  discoverer  of  the  natural  beauties  in  Eng- 
land, and  has  marked  out  the  course  of  every  picturesque  journey 
that  can  be  made  in  it." 

The  dogmatic  absoluteness  of  such  a  statement  is  its  own 
ruin.  We  have  already  seen  that  Gray  had  at  least  three  prede- 
cessors, Dalton,  Amory,  and  Brown,  in  his  recognition  of  the 
beauty  of  the  Lake  Region,  and  many  a  new  tour  was  sought  out 


202 


TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 


by  later  lovers  of  the  picturesque.  But  Gray's  Journal  in  the 
Lakes,  though  not  first,  is  certainly  most  important.  Both  in 
feeling  and  in  spontaneity  and  adequacy  of  expression  it  shows  a 
marked  advance  on  his  preceding  work,  and  as  literature  it  is  dis- 
tinctly in  advance  of  what  others  had  done. 

The  whole  of  this  famous  tour  occupied  but  three  weeks,  and 
the  trip  in  the  Lakes  but  ten  days.  Gray  was  by  no  means  so 
unwearied  in  sight-seeing  as  Young.  He  was  "  not  fond  of  dirt," 
and  he  was  fastidious  about  roads  and  inns.  He  did  not  go  on  an 
eager  search  for  views.  He  did  not  climb  Skiddaw,  and  he  passed 
by  Orrest-Head.  He  saw  what  he  could  see  comfortably.  His 
descriptions  are  quiet  and  controlled.  They  have  none  of  the 
"  dizzy  raptures  "  of  Brown  and  Young.  There  is  no  straining 
after  epithets,  no  struggle  to  find  expression  adequate  to  the 
emotion.  The  following  brief  quotations  may  serve  to  indicate 
his  style  : 

"  The  shining  purity  of  the  lake,  just  ruffled  by  the  breeze, 
enough  to  show  it  is  alive." 

"The  lake  majestic  in  its  calmness." 

"  Little  shining  torrents  hurry  down  the  rocks." 

"  The  grass  was  covered  with  a  hoar  frost,  which  soon  melted, 
and  exhaled  in  a  thin  blueish  smoke." 

"  In  the  evening  walked  alone  down  to  the  lake  after  sunset 
and  saw  the  solemn  colouring  of  night  draw  on,  the  last  gleam 
of  sunshine  fading  away  on  the  hill-tops,  the  deep  serene  of  the 
waters  and  the  long  shadows  of  the  mountains  thrown  across 
them." 

"  At  distance  heard  the  murmur  of  many  waterfalls  not  audi- 
ble in  the  dav-time.  Wished  for  the  moon,  but  she  was  dark  to  me 
and  silent,  hid  in  her  vacant  inter  lunar  cave.''' 

The  charm  of  Gray's  descriptions  lies  in  a  certain  bare  perfec- 
tion of  phrase,  in  his  direct,  unadorned  statement  of  beautiful 
facts.  His  words  have  a  vital,  penetrating  quality,  while  his  sense 
of  form,  his  artistic  reticence,  keep  his  enthusiasm  free  from 
exclamatory  extravagances. 

Thomas  Pennant's  first  tour  in  Scotland  was  made  in  1769. 
The  notes  taken  on  this  tour  were  put   into   shape  and  published 


TRAVELS  203 

in  1 771.  Dissatisfied  witli  the  result,  he  went  again  in  1772,  and 
this  Second  Tour  in  Scotland  and  the  Hebrides  appeared  in  1776. 
In  the  first  tour  his  professed  object  was  the  study  of  Zoology. 
In  the  second  he  was  assisted  by  two  friends,  one  trained  in 
Botany,  and  the  other  well  up  in  Scotch  customs  and  legends. 
But  Pennant's  interest  was  not  confined  to  Zoology  and  Botany, 
to  Manners  and  Customs.  His  curiosity  was  omniverous  and 
insatiable.  Everything  was  fish  that  came  to  his  net,  and  his 
industry  in  note  taking  was  prodigious.  The  two  journeys  occu- 
pied six  months  and  it  takes  570  folio  pages  to  set  down  what  he 
saw  and  heard. 

In  this  mass  of  observations  not  more  than  ten  pages,  all  told, 
have  anything  to  do  with  the  scenery  through  which  he  passed. 
Such  descriptive  passages  as  do  occur  are  usually  of  torrents,  rapid, 
rocky  rivers,  or  the  shores  of  lakes.  The  best  of  these  are  of  the 
banks  of  the  Nith,  the  falls  of  Cory-Lin  in  the  Clyde,  the  Cas- 
cades at  Moness,  which  he  calls  "  an  epitome  of  everything 
that  can  be  admired  in  the  curiosity  of  waterfalls,"  the  falls  and 
streams  near  Loch  Maree,  Ayrsgarth  Force  in  the  Ure,  the  little 
lake  of  Barrisdale  on  the  Inverness  coast,  Coniston,  and  Der- 
wentwater.  He  prides  himself  on  being  one  of  the  first  to 
describe  Coniston.  "  The  scenery  about  this  lake,  which  is 
scarcely  mentioned,  is  extremely  noble.  The  east  and  west  sides 
are  bounded  by  high  hills  often  wooded  ;  but  in  general  com- 
posed of  grey  rock,  and  coarse  vegetation  ;  much  juniper  creeps 
along  the  surface  ;  and  some  beautiful  hollies  are  finely  inter- 
mixed. At  the  northwestern  extremity  the  vast  mountains  called 
Coniston  fells  form  a  magnificent  mass.  In  the  midst  is  a  great 
bosom  retiring  inward,  which  affords  great  quantities  of  fine 
slate." 

He  very  often  notes  wide  views,  and  he  has  an  unfailing 
interest  of  a  scientific,  botanical  sort  in  the  forests  through  which 
they  pass. 

He  never,  however,  notes  any  but  the  permanent  details  of  a 
scene.  There  is  not  a  hint  that  he  saw  the  varying,  evanescent 
atmospheric  effects,  so  important  an  element  in  the  beauty  and 
sublimity  of  mountain  scenery.     He  does  admit  that  the  "High- 


2  o 4  TREA  TMEN7'  OF  NA  TURE  IN  ENGLISH  FOE FR  Y 

lands  like  other  beauties,  have  their  good  and  bad  days,"  but 
there  is  nothing  in  his  books  to  show  that  he  knew  them  apart. 

On  the  whole  he  shows  a  preference  for  a  region  of  smooth, 
rich,  arable  land.     On  leaving  the  Highlands  his  comment  is, 

"The  country  continually  improves;  the  mountains  sink 
gradually  into  small  hills  ;  the  land  is  highly  cultivated,  well 
planted,  and  well  inhabited.  I  was  struck  with  rapture  at  a 
sight  so  long  new  to  me.  Nothing  can  equal  the  contrast  between 
the  black,  barren,  dreary,  glens  of  the  morning  ride  and  the  soft 
scenes  of  the  evening." 

He  dislikes  the  Borrowdale  end  of  Derwentwater  where  "  all 
the  possible  variety  of  Alpine  scenery  is  exhibited,  with  all  the 
horror  of  precipice,  broken  crag,  or  overhanging  rock,  or  insu- 
lated pyramidal  hills."  He  prefers  the  outlook  towards  Skiddaw. 
"  But  the  opposite  or  northern  view  is  in  all  respects  a  strong  and 
beautiful  contrast ;  Skiddaw  shows  its  vast  base,  and  bounding 
all  that  part  of  this  vale,  rises  gently  to  a  height  that  sinks  the 
neighboring  hills  ;  opens  a  pleasing  front,  smooth  and  verdant, 
smiling  over  the  country  like  a  gentle,  generous  lord,  while 
the  fells  of  Barrowdale  frown  upon  it  like  a  hardened  tyrant. 
Skiddaw  is  covered  with  grass  to  within  half  a  mile  of  the  summit ; 
after  which  it  becomes  stony." 

So  far  as  nature  is  concerned,  the  passages  cited  show  Pennant 
at  his  best.  His  descriptions  are  full,  clear,  painstaking,  unimag- 
inative. He  is  as  impersonal  and  impartial,  as  conscientiously 
exact,  in  taking  notes  on  a  landscape  as  in  recording  the  annual 
haul  of  fish  in  Scotch  lakes.  Beautiful  scenes  were  to  him  an 
object  of  intellectual  curiosity.  They  made  no  artistic  or  emo- 
tional appeal.  "  The  visions  of  the  hills  and  the  souls  of  lonely 
places  "  were  a  strain  upon  him.  He  was  glad  to  come  forth 
into  fertile  valleys  and  pleasant  corn  lands. 

All  this  is  true,  and  Pennant  shows  much  less  of  the  new 
spirit  than  Brown,  Amory,  Young,  and  Gray.  But  his  work  was 
done  independently  of  theirs,  and  in  1769.  He  must  have  been  in 
the  Lake  District  a  month  before  Gray,  and  he  penetrated  into 
much  wilder  regions  of  Scotland  than  had  before  been  described. 
That  his  instinctive  shrinking  from  wild  scenes  should  have  been 


TRAVELS  205 

SO  far  overcome  as  it  was,  that  he  should  have  been  often  forced 
into  admiration,  is  of  itself  proof  of  the  strength  of  the  new 
impulse. 

The  Rev.  William  Gilpin  made  manv  tours  and  gave  full 
accounts  of  them,  but  the  accounts  were  not  published  till  years 
after  the  tours  were  made.     His  chief  travels  in   their  order  are, 

1.  Tour  in  Norfolk,  Cambridge,  Suffolk,  and  Esse.x  (1769; 
account  published   1809). 

2.  Tour  along  the  River  Wye  (1770;  pub.  17S2), 

3.  Tour  in  Cumberland  and  Westmoreland  (1772;  pub. 
1786). 

4.  Tour  in  North  Wales  (1773;  pub.  1809). 

5.  Tour  in  Hampshire,  Sussex  and  Kent  (1774;  pub.  1804). 

6.  Tour   in  the   Highlands   of  Scotland  (1776;  pub.   1789.) 

7.  Tour  in  Western  England  (before  1778;  pub.  1798). 

Mr.  Gilpin's  point  of  view  is  clearly  stated  in  the  preface  to 
the  first  of  these  publications. 

"The  following  little  work  proposes  a  new  object  of  pursuit; 
that  of  examining  the  face  of  a  country  by  the  rules  of  picturesque 
beauty."  He  hopes  that  no  one  will  consider  his  plan  unduly 
light  and  trivial  for  a  clergyman.  He  is  himself  convinced  that 
to  study  the  beauty  of  a  country  is  as'  noble,  in  a  way  as  useful, 
as  to  study  its  agriculture. 

By  picturesque  beauty  Gilpin  always  means  beauty  that  can  be 
put  into  a  picture.  He  draws  pictures  of  mountains  to  show 
whether  they  have  or  have  notagood  sky-line.  Some  are  too  regu- 
lar, some  are  grotesque,  some  look  deformed.  He  seldom  dwells 
long  on  wide  views  because  they  are  so  difficult  to  make  inter- 
esting in  a  picture.  The  grandeur  of  Penmanmaur  and  Snowden 
hardly  makes  up  to  him  for  their  lack  of  picturesqueness.  Pen- 
manmaur "has  no  variety  of  line,  but  is  one  heavy  lumpish 
form."  He  starts  up  Snowden,  but  finding  that  it  is  merely  "a 
collection  of  mountains  formed  on  the  old  gigantic  plan  of  heap- 
ing mountain  on  mountain,"  he  does  not  go  to  the  top, 
but  contents  himself  with  quoting  Pennant's  description  of  the 
view. 

Gilpin's  language  is  often  borrowed  from  the  art  of  painting. 


2  o  6  TREA  TMENT  OF  NA  TUKE  IN  ENGLISH  FOE  TR  Y 

He  calls  the  steep  banks  of  rivers  "side  screens;"  the  changing 
view  before  him  as  he  floats  down  the  river  is  a  "  front  screen."  He 
is  always  talking  about  foregrounds  and  backgrounds  and  per- 
spective and  composition.  He  says  that  Nature  is  "great  in 
design  and  she  is  an  admirable  colourist,  and  harmonizes  tints 
with  infinite  variety  and  beauty;  but  she  is  seldom  so  correct  in 
com'position  as  to  produce  a  harmonious  whole.  Either  the  fore- 
ground or  the  background  is  disproportioned,  or  some  awkward 
line  runs  through  the  piece;  or  a  tree  is  ill  placed,  or  a  bank  is 
formal  ;   or  something  or  other  is  not  as  it  should  be." 

With  his  sense  of  form  Gilpin  has  also  an  unusual  sensitive- 
ness to  color,  and  to  varieties  of  light  and  shade.  The  following 
description  of  a  sunset  is  typical: 

"  The  sun  was  now  descending  low,  and  cast  the  broad  shades 
of  evening  athwart  the  landscape,  while  his  beams,  gleaming  with 
yellow  lustre  through  the  valleys,  spread  over  the  inlightened 
summits  of  the  mountains  a  thousand  lovely  tints — in  sober  har- 
mony where  some  deep  recess  was  faintly  shadowed — in  splendid 
hue  where  jutting  knolls  or  promontories  received  fuller  radiance 
of  the  diverging  ray.  The  air  was  still.  The  lake,  one  vast 
expanse  of  crystal  mirror.  The  mountain  shadows,  which  some- 
times give  the  water  a  deep,  black  hue  (in  many  circumstances 
extremely  picturesque)  were  softened  here  into  a  mild  blue  tint 
which  swept  over  half  the  surface.  The  other  half  received  the 
fair  impression  of  every  radiant  form  that  glowed  around.  The 
inverted  landscape  was  touched  in  fainter  colours  than  the  real 
one.  Yet  it  was  more  than  laid  in.  It  was  almost  finished. 
What  an  admirable  study  for  the  pallet  is  such  a  scene  as  this  !  " 

"No  one  can  paint  a  country  properly,"  he  says,  "unless  he 
has  seen  it  in  various  lights."  The  local  variations  caused  by 
the  weather,  the  time  of  day,  the  time  of  year,  "cannot  be  too 
much  attended  to  by  all  lovers  of  landscape."  "Every  landscape 
is  seen  best  under  .f6';«<f/^^«//<3;/- illumination."  He  has  always  the 
painter's  eye  for  fogs,  mist,  haze,  soft  coloring,  atmosphere. 

Gilpin  studied  nature  according  to  the  rules  of  art,  because, 
as  he  said,  these  rules  were  drawn  from  nature.  No  man  resented 
more  quickly  than  he  the  transforming  hand  of  man    in   natural 


TRAVELS  207 

scenes.  If  lands  must  be  turned  to  agricultural  uses,  if  fields  must 
be  marked  off,  he  only  wishes  that  it  might  be  made  as  little  appar- 
ent as  possible.  He  hates  "a  multiplicity  of  glaring  temples"  in  a 
landscape.  He  thinks  most  so-called  adornments  in  private 
grounds  are  mere  "expensive  deformity,"  and  he  calls  regular 
clipped  hedges  "  objects  of  deformity."  He  apologizes  for  his 
severe  strictures  on  several  estates  in  the  Cumberland  region  by 
saying  that  the  grand  natural  scenes  so  filled  his  thought  that  he 
could  not  restrain  his  contempt  for  mere  embellished,  artificial 
ones.  Such  passages  are  an  emphatic  indication  of  the  revolu- 
tion in  taste  since  the  days  of  the  formal  garden.  Here  is  a 
characteristic  sentence  written  as  they  leave  the  Lakes: 

"Here  the  hills  grow  smooth  and  lumpish,  and  the  country 
at  every  step  loses  some  of  the  wild  strokes  of  nature  and  degen- 
erates, if  I  may  so  speak,  into  cultivation." 

Not  infrequently  Gilpin  turns  from  the  painter's  study  of  the 
scene,  and  gives  something  of  its  poetical  quality.  In  speak- 
ing of  the  appeal  made  by  the  Lake  Country  to  the  imagination 
he  says, 

"No  tame  country,  however  beautiful,  however  adorned,  can 
distend  the  mind  like  this  awful  and  majestic  scenery." 

Of  Ulzwater  on  a  perfectly  serene  day  he  says, 

"So  solemn  and  splendid  a  scene  raises  in  the  mind  a  sort  of 
enthusiastic  calm  which  spreads  a  mild  complacence  over  the 
breast,  a  tranquil  pause  of  mental  operations  which  may  be  felt 
but  not  described." 

And  again  in  his  Essay  ou  Picturesque   Travel, 

"We  are  most  delighted  when  some  grand  scene,  though  per- 
haps of  incorrect  composition,  rising  before  the  eyes,  strikes  us 
beyond  the  power  of  thought — when  the  vox  faucibus  haeret  and 
every  mental  operation  is  suspended.  In  this  pause  of  intellect, 
this  deliquum  of  the  soul,  an  enthusiastic  sensation  of  pleasure 
overspreads  it.     We  rather  feel  than  survey  the  scene." 

These  last  passages  inevitably  recall  Wordsworth's  analysis  of 
his  own  emotions  before  a  beautiful  view  when 

"  Thought  was  not  ;  in  enjoyment  it  expired," 
or  the  better  known  lines  in  Tintern  Abbey. 


2  08  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

On  the  whole,  Gilpin  represents  the  new  spirit  more  fully 
than  any  of  the  other  early  travelers.  He  notes  the  permanent 
and  the  evanescent.  He  observes  color,  form,  and  motion.  The 
severely  technical  quality  of  his  descriptions  does  not  seriously 
interfere  with  the  impression  they  give  of  pleasure  in  free,  wild 
nature,  and  he  again  and  again  shows  himself  capable  of  an 
imaginative  coriimunion  with  nature. 

In  1773,  Mr.  Hutchinson  and  his  brother,  an  accomplished 
draughtsman,  made  a  tour  through  the  Lakes.  In  1774,  after  the 
death  of  his  brother,  Mr.  Hutchinson  went  over  the  ground  again 
in  order  to  verify  his  brother's  incomplete  sketches.  The  obser- 
vations made  in  these  two  tours  were  published  under  the  title 
An  Excursion  to  the  Lakes  in  Westmoreland  and  Cumberland. 
Hutchinson's  dislike  of  the  wild  and  desolate  region  of  Stainmore 
has  already  been  cited,  but  that  quotation  alone  would  give  a 
most  unfair  impression  of  the  book  as  a  whole.  His  pleasure  in 
nature  is  great.  He  cares  especially  for  artistic  effects  of  light 
and  shade,  and  he  often  spends  pages  on  the  changing  beauty  of 
a  landscape  seen  at  sunset,  or  sunrise,  or  after  a  storm.  A  single 
passage  may  stand  as  illustrative  of  many  similar  ones  in  the  book. 
"At  the  foot  of  this  vast  range  of  hills  three  smaller  mounts, 
of  an  exact  conic  form,  running  parallel,  beautified  the  scene, 
being  covered  with  verdure  to  their  crowns  ;  the  nearest,  called 
Dufton  Pike,  was  ^  shadowed  by  a  passing  cloud,  save  only  the 
summit  of  its  cone,  which  was  touched  by  a  beam  which  painted 
it  with  gold  ;  the  second  pike  was  all  enlightened  and  gave  its 
verdure  to  the  prospect  as  if  mantled  with  velvet;  the  third  stood 
shadowed,  whilst  all  the  range  of  hills  behind  were  struck  with 
sunshine,  showing  their  cliffs,  caverns,  and  dells  in  grotesque 
variety  and  giving  the  three  pikes  a  picturesque  projection  on  the 
landscape ; — nature,  as  if  delighted  to  charm  the  eye  of  man,  at 
this  time  cast  an  accidental  beauty  over  the  scene ;  the  small 
clouds  which  chequered  the  sky,  as  they  passed  along,  spread 
their  flitting  shadows  on  the  distant  mountains  and  seemed  to 
marble  them  ;  a  beauty  which  I  do  not  recollect  has  struck  any 
painter,  and  which  has  not  been  described  even  by  the  bold  hand 
of  the  immortal  Poussin." 


TRAVELS  209 

Mr.  Hutchinson  had  evidently  read  many  of  the  books  treat- 
ing especially  of  the  beauty  of  nature.  He  quotes  the  whole  of 
Dr.  Brown's  Letter  and  much  of  Mr.  Dalton's  Poetn.  He  also 
quotes  freely  from  Thomson's  Seasons,  Mason's  Garden,  and  Pen- 
nant's account  of  Derwentwater.  He  was  familiar  with  the  earlier 
landscape  painting,  for  he  frequentl}-  compares  pleasing  scenes 
to  the  work  of  Claude  or  Poussin.  Some  of  the  most  effective 
descriptions  are  of  the  road  from  Keswick  to  Ambleside,  "the 
finest  ride  in  the  north  of  England  ;"  of  the  cataract  near  Amble- 
side, probably  Stock  Gill  Force  ;  of  the  ascent  of  Skiddaw  and 
of  a  thunderstorm  seen  from  its  summit ;  of  Derwentwater  from 
various  points  of  view,  and  of  a  moonlight  row  upon  the  lake. 
They  are  too  long  to  quote,  but  they  all  show  faithful  and  minute 
observation,  artistic  appreciation  of  beauties  of  form  and  color, 
and,  occasionally,  a  lively  sense  of  the  deeper  significance  of  the 
places  visited. 

The  most  important  English  tours  were  made  between  1768 
'and  1778.  Pennant,  Gray,  Young,  Gilpin,  and  Hutchinson 
made  during  this  ten  years  sixteen  rather  extended  journeys,  of 
which  they  gave  full  accounts.  Besides  these  we  have  Dr.  John- 
son's A  Journey  to  the  Hebrides  (1773  ;  pub.  1775),  Boswell's 
Journal  of  a  Tour  to  the  Hebrides  (1773;  pub.  1786),  and  Bray's 
Tour  Into  Derbyshire  (1777).  In  Boswell's  Journey  there  is  not 
the  slightest  indication  of  any  interest  in  the  scenery  through 
which  they  passed,  and  the  general  impression  given  by  Boswell 
is  that  Johnson's  indifference  was  equal  to  his  own.  For  instance, 
Boswell  wonders  at  the  outset  if  a  man  who  has  known  "the 
felicity  of  London  life"  can  fail  to  find  any  narrower  existence 
"insipid  or  irksome."  He  quotes  Dr.  Johnson  as  saying  at 
Portree  that  he  "longed  to  be  again  in  civilized  life."  He 
records  his  famous  sayings,  "  By  seeing  London  I  have  seen 
as  much  of  life  as  the  world  can  show,"  and  "Who  can  like 
the  Highlands?"  This  is  not  quite  fair  to  Johnson,  because 
in  his  own  account  of  the  Scotch  tour  and  in  his  letters 
there  are  a  few  passages  that  indicate  close  observation,  and 
even  enjoyment,  of  the  wild  scenes  about  him.  The  finest  passage 
is  a  description  of  a  storm  : 


2  I  o  TKEA  TMENT  OF  A'A  TURK  IN  ENGLISH  FOE  FR  \ ' 

"  The  night  came  on  while  we  had  vet  a  great  part  of  the  way 
to  go,  though  not  so  dark  but  that  we  could  discern  the  cataracts 
which  poured  down  the  hills  on  one  side,  and  fell  into  one  gen- 
eral channel  that  ran  with  great  violence  on  the  other.  The 
wind  was  loud,  the  rain  was  heavy,  and  the  whistling  of  the  blast, 
the  fall  of  the  shower,  the  rush  of  the  cataracts,  and  the  roar  of 
the  torrent,  made  a  nobler  chorus  of  the  rough  music  of  Nature 
than  it  had  ever  been  my  chance  to  hear  before." 

But  Johnson's  attitude  towards  the  external  world  was,  on  the 
whole,  the  typical  classical  one,  and  is  well  illustrated  by  his 
reply  to  Mr.  Thrale's  attempt  to  win  his  admiration  of  a  fine 
prospect. 

"Never  heed  such  nonsense;  a  blade  of  grass  is  always  a 
blade  of  grass,  whether  in  one  country  or  another.  Let  us,  if  we 
do  talk,  talk  about  something  ;  men  and  women  are  my  subjects 
of  inquiry." 

Mr.  Bray's  Tour  has  a  full  map  and  is  written  somewhat  in 
the  guide-book  style.  Industries,  architecture,  history,  family 
chronicles,  anecdotes,  inscriptions,  fill  up  its  135  closely  printed 
folio  pages.  There  is  comparatively  little  about  the  scenes 
through  which  he  passed.  In  describing  the  various  estates 
which  he  visited  pages  are  given  to  house-furnishings  for  a  single 
paragraph  on  the  grounds.  But  these  seldom  go  unnoticed. 
He  dislikes  the  formal  garden.  He  objects  to  the  reg- 
ular cascades  at  Matlock.  He  thinks  that  the  conceits  in 
the  waterworks  at  Chatsworth  mii^ht  have  been  deemed  wonderful 
when  they  were  made,  "but  those  who  have  contemplated 
the  waterfalls  which  nature  exhibits  in  this  country  .  .  . 
will  receive  little  pleasure  from  seeing  a  temporary  stream  falling 
down  a  flight  of  steps,  spouted  out  of  the  mouths  of  dolphins  or 
dragons,  or  squirted  from  the  leaves  of  a  copper  tree."  The 
most  extended  description  is  of  the  gardens  at  Stowe,  which  he 
praises  because,  though  laid  out  in  the  formal  style,  their  regu- 
larity has  been  broken  up  and  disguised.  Mr.  Bray  also  shows  a 
liking  for  wild  and  romantic  scenerv.  He  frequently  mentions 
wide  views,  and  condemns  Compton  Wyngate  because  it  has  no 
prospect,  of  which,  he  adds,  "  our  ancestors  appear  to  have  scarce 


TRAVELS  211 

ever  thought."  The  spots  he  enjoyed  most  are  Matlock  High 
Tor,  and  wild  places  on  the  Dore.and  the  Derwent,  Aysgarth 
Force  in  the  Eure,  and  rock}-  Gordale.  He  noted  especially 
waterfalls  and  rivers.      Of  the  Derwent  at  Matlock  he  says  : 

"  It  is  a  most  romantic  and  beautiful  ride.  The  river  is  some- 
times hid  behind  trees,  sometimes  it  glides  smooth  and  calm, 
sometimes  a  distant  fall  is  heard  ;  here  it  tumbles  over  a  ledge  of 
rocks  stretching  quite  across,  there  it  rushes  over  rude  fragments, 
torn  by  storms  from  the  impending  masses.  Each  side,  but  par- 
ticularly the  farther  one,  is  bordered  by  lofty  rocks,  generally 
clothed  with  wood,  in  the  most  picturesque  manner." 

Passages  such  as  this,  though  perhaps  not  very  effective,  show 
an  attention  arrested  by  the  beauties  of  nature.  There  is  a  close- 
ness of  detail  indicating  first-hand  observation,  and  the  prevailing 
tone  shows  that  Mr.  Bray  justly  claims  for  himself  "  a  taste  for 
nature  in  her  genuine  simplicity." 

Of  the  Travels  after  1778,  numerous  as  they  are,  few  need 
special  mention,  because  almost  no  really  new  elements  appear  in 
them.  A  few  new  tours  are  sketched  out,  as  to  the  Isle  of  Wight 
and  the  Isle  of  Man.  But  in  general  the  same  old  ground  is 
gone  over,  the  preference  still  being  accorded  to  Scotland,  Wales, 
and  the  English  Lakes.  In  1796,  but  three  years  before  Words- 
worth went  to  Dove  Cottage,  there  appeared  four  new  Tours  to 
the  Lakes  by  Rudworth,  Walker,  Houseman,  and  Hutchinson. 
In  1794-5  there  were  five  Tours  in  Wales.  Of  a  few  of  these 
books  perhaps  some  mention  should  be  made. 

The  Rev.  Mr.  Shaw's  Tour  (1788)  in  the  west  of  England  is 
significant  for  two  reasons.  It  is  one  of  the  first  books  to  make 
literary  associations  prominent  in  the  description.  He  says  that 
Woodstock  is  classic  ground  because  Chaucer  lived  there  ;  Horton 
is  sacred  because  of  Milton ;  Beaconsfield,  because  of  Waller ; 
Windsor  Forest,  because  of  Pope;  and  Stoke  Pogis,  because  of 
"  the  sublime  and  the  pathetic  Gray."  The  second  point  of  sig- 
nificance is  Mr.  Shaw's  evident  irritation  at  the  apparently  over- 
weening attention  to  mountains.  He  says  that  if  people  could 
forget  Skiddaw  and  Ben  Lomond  for  a  little  while  they  might 
be  able   to  see  the  rich  beauty  of  the  champaign  country  about 


2 1  2  TREA  TMENT  OF  NA  TURE  IN  ENGLISH  FOE  TR  \ ' 

Malvern  Hills.  Mr.  Shaw  goes  back  to  the  "  crowds  and  bustle  " 
of  London  with  great  regret  because,  he  says,  no  matter  what 
society  you  find  there,  nothing  can  make  up  for  the  pensive 
enjoyments  of  a  feeling  mind  in  a  picturesque  country. 

Hassel's  Tour  of  the  Isle  of  Wiglit  (1790)  is  in  the  style  of 
Gilpin's  work.  The  general  knowledge  of  the  Lake  Country  and 
the  general  admiration  of  it  is  shown  by  his  comparisons.  A 
certain  spot  has  "  all  the  appearance  of  a  Westmoreland  scene." 
Certain  noble  hills  "  rise  with  all  the  majesty  of  the  Skiddaw 
mountains."  Hassel's  purpose  is  a  search  for  the  picturesque. 
He  especially  notes  rich  effects  of  color,  and  the  varying  lights 
of  sunrise  and  sunset.  He  sees  nature  in  a  succession  of  pic- 
tures, but  his  language  is  free  from  the  technicalities  of  Gilpin. 

Robertson's  Tour  in  the  Isle  of  Man  (1794)  has  little  effective 
description,  but  it  is  noteworthy  as  one  of  the  first  books  of 
travel  to  be  infected  by  the  sentimental  melancholy  of  the 
romancers.  His  Manxmen  "  recline  by  some  romantic  stream  " 
in  the  true  pensive  spirit.  He  visits  churchyards  and  solitary 
places.  He  pores  over  the  mazy  stream,  he  watches  the  rooks,  he 
listens  to  the  sighing  evening  breeze,  very  much  like  one  of  Mrs. 
Brooke's  lovelorn  heroes.  Occasionally  he  has  some  expressions 
of  deeper  import,  as  when  he  says  that  Nature  not  only  charms 
the  eye  "but  purifies  and  ennobles  the  soul."  "The  mind  is 
filled  with  divine  enthusiasm."  He  is,  however,  perhaps  ade- 
quately characterized  by  the  word  "  romantic,"  which  he  uses 
until  it  becomes  almost  unbearable. 

Of  Travels  in  general  we  may  say  that  the  transfer  of  empha- 
sis from  man  to  nature  is  strongly  marked.  The  love  of  nature 
as  shown  in  Travels  is  later  in  development  than  it  is  in  poetry, 
but  when  the  new  feeling  does  find  expression  it  sounds  no 
uncertain  note,  and  by  the  end  of  the  century  has  reached  a 
statement  as  bold  and  unqualified  as  that  which  is  found  in  the 
poetry  itself. 


CHAPTER   V. 

« 

FICTION. 

The  great  achievement  of  the  eighteenth  century  was  in  the 
development  of  fiction.  The  famous  names  here  are,  of  course, 
Richardson,  Fielding,  Smollett,  and  Sterne.  After  them,  and  also 
to  a  less  degree,  contemporary  with  them,  are  many  writers  of 
fiction  the  quality  of  whose  work  has  consigned  them  to  the 
list  of  "  The  Neglected,  the  Disdained,  the  Forgotten,"  and 
in  most  cases  it  would  be  a  literary  misfortune  if  by  any  chance 
they  should  fall  into  the  fourth  class,  "The  Resuscitated,"  As  lit- 
erature they  are  almost  unreadable.  It  is  only  from  the  histori- 
cal point  of  view  that  they  can  arouse  any  real  interest.  For  the 
present  purpose  I  do  not  pretend  to  have  read  all  the  works  of 
fiction  written  in  the  eighteenth  century.  The  forty-three  men- 
tioned here  were  selected  because  by  their  dates  they  represent  the 
century  as  a  whole,  and  because  they  represent  also  the  various 
kinds  of  fiction.  I  shall  first  speak  of  these  briefly  in  chrono- 
logical order,  and  then  indicate  such  general  statements  as  may 
seem  the  legitimate  outcome  of  the  facts  presented.  The  one 
point  to  be  considered  is  the  use  made  of  external  nature  in  the 
novel  or  romance. 

The  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley  papers  (Addison  and  Steele,  171 2) 
are  continuous  narratives  marked  by  some  at  least  of  the  charac- 
teristics of  the  coming  English  novel.  Many  of  these  papers  pur- 
port to  be  written  from  the  country  and  Will  Wimble  complains 
that  they  "begin  to  smell  confoundedly  of  woods  and  meadows." 
After  a  time  the  author  finds  himself  growing  short  of  subjects  in 
the  country  and  returns  to  town  as  the  true  "field  of  game  for 
sportsmen  of  his  species."  Though  written  from  the  country  the 
papers  have  nothing  about  country  scenes  except  frequent  phrases 
such  as,   "  We   then  took  a  walk    in   the   fields,"   and  one   brief 

2M 


2 1 4  TREA  TMENT  OF  NA  TURE  IN  ENGLISH  FOE  TR  Y 

description  of  "a  solemn  walk  of  elms,"  unless,  indeed,  we  might 
add  the  pleasure  the  author  took  in  his  friend's  poultry  yard. 
The  stress  is  all  on  country  people. 

Robinson  Crusoe  (Defoe,  17 19),  the  first  great  example  of  the 
voyage  imaginaire,  necessarily  regards  nature  from  the  point  of 
view  of  immediate  utility.  The  whole  interest  of  the  book  rests 
\j  on  the  mechanical  ingenuity  whereby  man  subdues  nature.  There 
are  few  if  any  passages  where  Robinson  Crusoe  is  represented  as 
being  in  any  way  sensitive  to  the  beauty  or  charm  of  nature. 

In  /'(?/;/rA7  (Richardson,  1740)  there  is  much  talk  about  the 
value  of  travel  in  Great  Britain  and  on  the  continent,  but  there 
"*  is  not  a  word  about  the  scenery  of  the  places  visited.  Pamela 
sums  up  her  impressions  of  travel  in  England  in  one  sentence. 
"These  excursions  have  given  me  infinite  delight  and  pleasure, 
and  enlarged  my  notions  of  the  wealth  and  power  o-f  the  king- 
dom." (Vol.  3,  p.  304.)  When  Lord  B.  and  Pamela  are  spend- 
ing their  honeymoon  in  their  Kentish  house  they  plan  certain 
improvements  such  as  cutting  a  vista  through  the  coppice  ;  they 
train  the  vines  around  the  windows  because  they  love  the  mingled 
odors  of  woodbines  and  jessamines  ;  and  thev  listen  for  two  hours 
at  a  stretch  to  the  "responsive  songs  of  two  warbling  nightin- 
gales" (2:163).  Earlier  in  their  career,  during  a  walk  in  the 
garden,  the  fragrance  from  a  bank  of  flowers  inspires  Lord  B.  to 
sing  a  typical  eighteenth  century  song  of  which  this  is  one 
stanza  : 

"The  purple  violet,  damask  rose, 
Each,  to  delight  your  senses,  blows. 
The  lilies  ope  as  you  appear  ; 
And  all  the  beauties  of  the  year 

Diffuse  their  odours  at  your  feet. 
Who  give  to  ev'ry  flower  its  sweet." 

There  is  not  a  hint  in  the  book  of  any  feeling  towards  nature 

except  such  as  is  characteristic  of  the  pseudo-classical  poetry. 

\n  Joseph  Andreivs  (Fielding,  1742)  there   are  four  brief  pas- 

V  sages  in  which  nature  is  touched  upon.      Two  of  these  are  evi- 

"*"  ^^•^^^— =•' •' -  "^       debtJy  mekht  as  satires  on   the  ordinary  descriptions  of  sunrise. 

The  first  one  is  as  follows  : 


FICTION.  2  I  5 

"  Aurora  now  began  to  show  her  blooming  cheeks  over  the 
hills,  whilst  ten  millions  of  feathered  songsters,  in  jocund  chorus, 
repeated  odes  a  thousand  times  sweeter  than  those  of  our  laureate  " 
(p.  43.  Cf.  p.  219).  The  longest  description  is  of  a  vale  with  a 
winding  rivulet,  many  trees,  and  soil  "spread  with  a  verdure 
which  no  paint  could  imitate,"  the  whole  place  being  such  as 
"might  have  raised  romantic  ideas  in  older  minds  than  those  of 
Joseph  and  Fanny"  (p.  226). 

\xv  Jonathan  TF/'A/ (Fielding,  1743)  there  are  no  references  to 
the  world  of  nature. 

In  David  Sbnple  (Sarah  Fielding,  1744)  the  search  of  the  hero 
for  a  true  friend  is  so  complicated  and  absorbing  an  occupation 
that  there  is  no  room  for  observation  of  the  external  world. 

In  Clarissa  Harloive  (Richardson,  1748)  there  is  one  simile 
drawn  from  nature  (2:478),  one  mention  of  the  "variegated  pros- 
pects" from  Hampstead  Heath  (3:198)  and  one  reference  to  an 
overgrown   ivy  so  thick  as  to  be  a  shelter  from  the   rain  (i:394)» 

In  Roderick  Random  (Smollett,  1748)  there  are  no  references 
to  nature. 

Of  the  eight  passages  referring  to  nature  in  Tom  Jones  {^\€i6.- 
ing,  1749)  two  are  satirical  of  the  conventional  descriptions  and 
similitudes  of  the  day. 

"  Aurora  now  first  opened  her  casement,  Angiice,  the  day 
began  to  break"  (2  :   9). 

"As  in  the  month  of  June,  the  damask  rose,  which  chance 
hath  planted  among  the  lilies,  with  their  candid  hues  mixes  his 
vermilion  ;  or,  as  some  playful  heifer  in  the  pleasant  month  of 
May  diffuses  her  odoriferous  breath  over  the  flowery  meadows ; 
or  as,  in  the  blooming  month  of  April,  the  gentle,  constant  dove, 
perched  on  some  fair  bough,  sits  meditating  on  her  mate,"  so  sits 
Sophia,  "  looking  a  hundred  charms,  and  breathing  as  many 
sweets,  her  thoughts  being  fixed  on  her  Tommy"  (2  :   61). 

A  third  passage,  also  satirical,  is, 

"And  now  the  moon  began  to  put  forth  her  silver  light,  as 
the  poets  call  it  (though  she  looked  at  that  time  more  like  a  piece 
of  copper)  "  (2  :  172).  There  is  one  appreciative  reference  to  the 
attractive  scenery  of  Devon  and  Dorset.     The  description  of  Mr. 


2  1 6  TKEA  TMENT  OF  NA  TURK  IN  ENGLISH  FOE  TR  V 

Allworthy's  estate  which  owed  "  less  to  art  than  to  nature,"  is 
modern  in  tone  and  marks  the  break  already  made  with  the  for- 
mal garden  (i  :  12).  In  another  passage  there  is  an  expression 
of  pleasure  in  a  wide  prospect,  seen  by  moonlight,  for  "the  sol- 
emn light  which  the  moon  casts  on  all  objects  is  beyond 
expression  beautiful,  especially  to  an  imagination  which  is 
desirous  of  cultivating  melancholy  ideas"  (1:422).  The  other 
passages  are  of  no  significance. 

I'e/er  IVilki/is  (Robert  Paltock,  1750)  is  the  first  and  most 
famous  of  the  successors  of  Robinson  Crusoe.  The  scene  of  Peter's 
trials  and  successes  is  laid  in  Africa  and  the  southern  islands. 
There  is  but  one  brief  passage  in  which  there  is  even  the  slight- 
est indication  that  the  author  thought  of  nature  from  any  but  the 
utilitarian  point  of  view. 

Pompey  the  Little  (Cowtnixy,  1751)  is  a  romance  ostensibly 
relating  with  serio- comic  minuteness  the  life  and  adventures  of 
a  lapdog  much  in  the  manner  of  the  Novelepicaresco  of  Mendozo 
and  Aleman,  but  really  dealing  in  thinly  disguised  social  satire. 
It  makes  no  use  of  nature,  unless  we  may  count  poor  Mr.  Rhymer 
who  looks  at  the  moon  and  quotes  Milton  to  the  extravagant 
amusement  of  a  group  of  dandies  who  observe  him. 

In  Peregrine  Pickle  (Smollett,  1751)  Peregrine  sings  one  of 
the  conventional  songs  to  Emilia,  beginning, 

"  Thy  charms  divinely  bright  appear 
And  add  new  splendor  to  the  year." 

This  is  the  only  use  of  nature  in  the  book.  The  eighteen 
months  of  travel  in  France  and  Holland  do  not  suggest  a  single 
phrase  about  the  scenery  of  those  countries. 

Mrs.  Lennox's  The  Female  Quixote  (1752)  is  a  record  of  the 
absurd  and  futile  attempts  of  a  beautiful' maiden  unfortunately 
brought  up  on  "  the  languishing  love  romances  of  the  Calprene- 
dos  and  the  Scuderis"  to  make  over  the  practical  world  about  her 
according  to  the  laws  of  love  and  chivalry.  Almost  all  her  adven- 
tures occur  in  the  country,  but  there  are  only  two  references  to 
the  outdoor  world.     Of  the  estate  of  the  marquis  it  is  said: 

"  The  most  laborious  endeavours  of  art  had  been   expended  to 


FICTION.  2  I  7 

make  it  appear  like  the  beautiful  product  of  wild  uncultivated 
nature." 

In  another  passage  the  heroine  is  said  to  lead  her  unhappy- 
friend  into  the  garden,  "supposing  a  person  whose  uneasiness 
proceeded  from  love  would  be  pleased  with  the  sight  of  groves 
and  streams." 

In  Ferdbiand  Co init  Fathom  (Smollett,  1753)  there  is  merely 
a  conventional  description  of  a  furious  storm. 

In  Sir  Charles  Graiidison  (Richardson,  1753)  there  are  two 
interesting  passages  concerning  the  estate  of  Sir  Charles.  It  was 
his  aim  not  "  to  force  and  distort  nature,  but  to  help  it  as  he 
finds  it,  without  letting  art  be  seen  in  his  works,  where  he  can 
possibly  avoid  it  (2:  276).  A  part  of  the  estate  was  evidently 
laid  out  according  to  the  ideas  of  Kent  and  Brown,  but  the 
orchard  "  with  its  regular  semicircle  rows  of  pears,  apples,  cher- 
ries, plums  and  apricots,  arranged  according  to  the  season  of 
flowering,"  belonged  to  the  days  of  Sir  Thomas,  when  symmetry 
and  regularity  ruled  (4:238).  In  this  novel  also  is  Richardson's 
frequently  quoted  description  of  Savoy,  "  equally  noted  for  its 
poverty  and  rocky  mountains.  .  .  .  one  of  the  worst  countries 
under  heaven  "  (3:138-142). 

We  have  now  passed  the  middle  of  the  century  and  there  has 
not  been  in  the  works  of  fiction  mentioned  a  single  passage  indi- 
cating any  close  observation  or  love  of  nature,  and  hardly  a 
passage  showing  any  knowledge  of  nature  except  as  found  in 
parks  and  gardens.  But  in  1756-66  there  appeared  a  fantastic 
novel  by^  Thomas  Amory  called  The  Life  of  John  Buncle,  which 
is  notable  in  the  present  study  because  nearly  all  the  adventures 
whereby  the  hero  gains  and  loses  his  seven  Socinian  wives  occur 
among  the  mountains  of  Westmoreland  and  Cumberland.  We 
have  but  to  compare  the  book  with  Mrs.  Ward's  Robert  Elsmere 
to  see  how  extravagantly  unreal  are  most  of  Amory's  descrip- 
tions. They  often  contain  marvels  equal  to  those  of  Vathek.  The 
mountains  are  made  as  lofty  and  dangerous  as  the  most  inacces- 
sible Alps,  and  they  are  so  heaped  in  together  that  progress  from 
one  valley  to  another  would  be  out  of  the  question  were  it  not 
for   convenient  caves   and  natural  tunnels   by  which  the  venture- 


2  1 8  TREA  TMENT  OF  NA  TURE  IN  ENGLISH  FOE  FR  V 

some  hero  makes  his  way  from  vale  to  vale.  But  in  the  midst  of 
these  absurdities  and  impossiblities,  there  are  occasional  passages 
of  effective  description,  and  of  real  appreciation  of  wild  moun- 
tain scenery.  It  is  an  entirely  new  note  in  fiction  and  it  followed 
close  upon  the  poem  by  Dr.  Dalton,  which  was  probably  the  first 
poetical  tribute  to  the  scenery  of  the  Lakes.  Mr.  Amory  aptly 
describes  mountain  tarns  as  pools  of  "  black,  standing,  unfathom- 
able water."  (Vol.  i,  p.  290.)  He  frequently  gives  enthusiastic 
descriptions  of  the  views  from  mountain  tops.  In  one  passage 
he  says : 

"  I  climbed  up  to  the  top  by  a  steep,  craggy  way.  This  was 
very  difficult  and  dangerous,   but  I   had  an  enchanting  prospect 

when  I  gained   the  summit  of  the  hill The  vast  hills  had 

a  fine  effect  in  the  view  "  (2:  122;  cf.  i :  167). 

Of  Westmoreland  he  says  : 

"  The  Vale  of  Keswick  and  Lake  of  Derwentwater,  in  Cum- 
berland, are  thought  by  those  who  have  been  there  to  be  the  finest 
point  of  view  in  England,  and  extremely  beautiful  they  are,  far 
more  so  than  Dr.  Dalton  has  been  able  to  make  them  appear  in 
his  descriptive  poem  ;  or  than  the  Doctor's  brother,  Mr.  Dalton, 
has  painted  them  in  his  fine  drawings  ;  and  yet  they  are  inferior 
in  charms  to  the  vale,  the  lake,  the  brooks,  the  shaded  sides  of  the 
surrounding  mountains,  and  the  tuneful  falls  of  water  to  which 
we  came  in  Westmoreland.  In  all  the  world,  I  believe,  there  is 
not  a  more  glorious  scene  to  be  seen  in  the  fine  time  of  the 
year  "  (3:93).  And,  again,  "  Westmoreland  is  the  most  beauti- 
ful and  romantic  solitude  in  the  world  "  (3:  151).  The  first  vol- 
ume of  Amory's  book  appeared  in  1756.  The  other  volumes 
written  at  intervals  thereafter,  were  published  in  1766.  The  best 
passages  are  in  the  third  volume,  but  at  the  latest  they  must  have 
been  written  three  years  before  Gray  made  his  tour  to  the  lakes. 
It  would  be  interesting  to  know  whether  Grav  had  read  yo/if^ 
Buncle,  as  Amory  had  Dalton's  poem.  At  any  rate  Amory's 
novel  shows  how  early  the  Lake  District  was  visited  by  lovers  of 
the  beautiful,  for  he  not  only  describes  it  himself,  but  he  speaks  as 
if  there  were  already  a  good  deal  of  discussion  as  to  the  rival 
charms  of  Keswick  and  Westmoreland. 


FICTION  2  1 9 

In  Rasselas  (Dr.  Johnson,  1759)  the  scenery  of  the  Happy 
Valley  is  briefly  described.  Since  it  was  a  spot  where  "  all  the 
diversities  of  the  world  were  brought  together,  the  blessings  of 
nature  were  collected,  and  its  evils  were  extracted  and  excluded," 
it  would  be  in  vain  to  look  for  first-hand  description.  We 
have  merely  an  impossible  combination  of  millennial  details.  After 
leaving  the  Happy  Valley  Imlac  wanders  through  the  world,  but 
his  only  impression  from  nature  is  a  feeling  of  repulsion  at  the 
"  barren  uniformity "  of  the  ocean.  When  he  tried  to  be  a 
poet  he  did,  to  be  sure,  turn  to  nature.  He  "  ranged  mountains 
and  deserts  for  images  and  similitudes"  in  true  classical  style. 
He  studied  trees  and  flowers,  he  wandered  along  rivulets,  and 
sometimes  he  watched  the  clouds,  for  "  to  a  poet  nothing  can  be 
useless."  Dr.  Johnson's  use  of  nature  in  Rasselas  is  tasteless  and 
insipid. 

Sterne's  one  allusion  to  nature  in  Tristram  Shandy  (1759-67) 
is  too  characteristic  to  be  omitted.  It  occurs  in  the  description 
of  a  journey. 

"  There  is  nothing  more  terrible  to  travel-writers  than  a  large 
rich  plain,  especially  if  it  is  without  great  rivers  or  bridges  ;  and 
presents  nothing  to  the  eye  but  one  unvaried  picture  of  plenty  ; 
for  after  they  have  once  told  you  that  it  is  delicious  or  delightful 
(as  the  case  may  happen);  that  the  soil  was  grateful  and  that 
nature  pours  out  all  her  abundance,  etc.,  they  have  then  a  large 
plain  upon  their  hands  which  they  know  not  what  to  do  with  and 
which  is  of  little  or  no  use  to  them  but  to  carry  them  to  the  next 
town." 

In  Almora)!  and  Ha7net  (Hawkesworth,  1761),  an  Oriental 
Tale,  there  is  no  use  of  nature  except  in  a  few  far  fetched  sim- 
iles, and  one  or  two  phrases  about  the  lengthening  evening 
shadows. 

In  Sir  Lau>icelot  Greaves  {^m.(:i\\t\.\.,  1762)  there  is  no  reference 
to  nature  except  in  a  sarcastic  allusion  to  poets  who  cannot  talk 
of  a  beautiful  girl  without  "  blending  the  lily  and  the  rose  and 
bringing  in  a  parcel  of  similes  of  cowslips,  carnations,  pinks,  and 
daisies." 

Mrs.    Brooke's    The  History  of  Lady  Julia  Afandeviiie  [I'jbT,) 


/ 


2  2  o         77?^^  TMENT  OF  NA  TUKE  IN  ENGLISH  POE  TR  V 

has  a  hero  and  a  heroine  who  rejoice  in  "  a  genuine  taste  for  ele- 
gant nature,"  and  their  letters  contain  some  descriptive  passages 
evidently  intended  to  combine  vividness  and  elegance.  The  gar- 
dens and  parks  behind  the  house  are  "  romantic  beyond  the 
wantonness  of  imagination,"  and  the  whole  adjoining  country 
has  "  every  charm  of  lovely  unadorned  nature."  Beyond  the 
house  there  is  "  an  avenue  of  the  tallest  trees  which  lets  in  the 
prospect  of  a  fruitful  valley,  bounded  at  a  distance  by  a  moun- 
tain, down  the  sides  of  which  rushes  a  foaming  cascade,  which 
spreads  into  a  thousand  meandering  streams  in  the  vale  below." 
In  the  woods  are  rustic  temples  "  in  the  most  elegant  style  of 
simplicity."  At  the  close  of  a  walk  they  come  to  a  grotto 
"  wildly  lovely,  its  entrance  almost  hidden  by  the  vines  that  flaunt 
over  its  top,"  and  there  they  find  an  opportune  repast  with  ser- 
vants in  attendance.  The  motherly  care  with  which  Mrs.  Brooke 
preserves  her  delicately  bred  characters  from  roughness  or 
fatigue  or  hunger  interferes  somewhat  with  her  attempts  to  repre- 
sent "  simple,  unadorned  nature,"  and  in  spite  of  her  protests 
against  "  the  gloomy  haunts  of  London  "  she  never  quite  gets 
out  into  the  free  country.  Her  raptures  have  a  forced,  made-up 
air.  The  exclamatory  ecstacy  of  such  passages  as  the  following 
is  certainly  open  to  suspicion  : 

"  What  a  divine  morning  !  how  lovely  is  the  face  of  nature! 
The  blue  serene  of  Italy  with  the  lovely  verdure  of  England  ! 
But  behold  a  more  charming  object  than  nature  herself  !  The 
sweet,  the  young,  the  blooming  Lady  Julia!" 

There  is  a  more  genuine  ring  to  Lady  Wilmot's  protest, 
"  The  finest  landscape  is  a  dreary  wild  without  people." 
Most  of  the  action  in  Mrs.  Brooke's  second  novel,  Emily 
Montague,  is  laid  in  Canada,  which  country  Mrs.  Brooke  had 
visited.  The  book  represents  her  enjoyment  of  the  strange 
scenes  about  her.  The  beauty  of  the  river  Montmorenci  more 
than  repays  Miss  Arabella  Fermor  for  the  fatigues  of  a  voyage 
across  the  Atlantic.  The  hero  finds  that  the  streams  and  mount- 
ains of  England  seem  petty  when  he  is  in  the  presence  of  the 
majesty  and  sublimity  of  the  western  world.  The  descriptions 
are    perhaps    over   elaborate,   but   they   are  not  ineffective,   and 


FICTION  221 

they  show  much  closer  knowledge  of  natural  phenomena  and 
more  real  interest  in  them  than  do  the  tamer  passages  in  the 
preceding  novel. 

J_]2JJ]r  faiT"^"''  Cir^tJp  nf^ntrnnfo   (Walpole,  I  764)  there   is   no 
Mse  whatever_Qf  nature. 

In  Brooke's  Fool  of  Quality  [i']  66)  the  sky  is  fitly  spoken  of  as 
"a  stupendous  expanse  sumptuously  furnished  with  a  profusion  of 
planets."  Certainly  no  other  sort  of  sky  would  have  presumed 
to  bend  down  over  Mr.  Brooke's  stupendous  little  prig  of  a  hero. 
The  chief  use  of  nature,  however,  is  in  similes  for  Harry's  counte- 
nance which  is  "like  sunshine  on  a  dark  day,"  or  a  "lake  on  a 
summer's  evening  showing  heaven  in  its  bosom,"  or,  if  bathed  in 
tears  as  it  frequently  was,  "like  the  sun  in  a  shower." 

The  charm  of  The  Vicar  of  Wakefield  (GoXdsraxVn,  1766)  rests 
upon  its  sweetness  and  purity,  its  quaint  humor,  and  its  quality 
of  fresh,  open-air  wholesomeness.  Its  use  of  liature  is  of  the 
most  casual,  unemphasized  sort.  There  are  not  in  the  whole 
work  twenty-five  lines  concerning  the  country  scenes  in  which  all 
the  action  takes  place.  And  yet  these  simple,  direct  phrases 
have  a  magical  power  of  suggestion.  The  seat  under  the  haw- 
thorn where  the  family  drank  their  tea  and  watched  the  sunset, 
the  dinner  in  the  hayfield,  the  brief  description  of  the  little  farm, 
have  in  them  the  power  of  reality  and  do  more  to  give  a  free, 
out  of-doors  atmosphere  to  the  story  than  all  Mrs.  Brooke's  pan- 
egyrics. But  here,  as  in  Goldsmith's  other  works,  the  stress  is 
on  the  characters,  and  the  little,  truthful  pictures  of  nature  seem 
almost  accidental. 

In  Sterne's  Sentimental  Journey  (1768)  there  is  no  use  of 
external  nature. 

Of  Mackenzie's  Afan  of  Feeling  (1771)  the  same  may  be  said 
unless,  indeed,  we  except  one  reference  to  a  scene  "not  unlike 
Salvator's  back-grounds." 

Smollett's  Humphrey  Clinker  {iJTi)  is  the  last  of  his  novels 
and  the  only  one  in  which  there  is  effective  use  of  nature.  Smol- 
lett was  born  and  brought  up  in  the  valley  of  the  Leven;  and  he 
spent  some  months  there  before  the  final  trip  to  Italy  for  his 
health.      He  was     in    Leghorn  about    a  year    before     he     died 


222  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

and  during  this  year  he  wrote  Humphrey  Clinker.  It  recounts 
the  travels  of  Matthew  Bramble  in  search  of  health.  The  love  of 
nature  comes  out  chiefly  in  the  letters  supposed  to  be  written 
from  Scotland.  He  speaks  with  pleasure  of  the  "  huge  dusky 
mountains  of  the  West  Highlands,  piled  one  over  another,"  and 
of  Loch  Lomond,  that  "surprising  body  of  pure,  transparent 
water,  unfathomably  deep  in  many  places  "with  its  green,  wooded 
islands.  "  I  have  seen  the  Lago  diGardi,"  he  exclaims,  "  Albano, 
De  Vico,  Bolsena,  and  Geneva,  and,  upon  my  honor,  I  prefer 
Loch  Lomond  to  them  all;  a  preference  which  is  certainly  owing 
to  the  verdant  islands  that  seem  to  float  upon  its  surface,  afford- 
ing the  most  enchanting  objects  of  repose  to  the  excursive  view. 
Nor  are  the  banks  destitute  of  beauties,  which  even  partake  of 
the  sublime.  On  this  side  they  display  a  sweet  variety  of  wood- 
land, cornfield,  and  pasture,  with  several  agreeable  villas  emerg- 
ing as  it  were  out  of  the  lake,  till  at  some  distance  the  prospect 
terminates  in  huge  mountains,  covered  with  heath,  which  being 
in  the  bloom,  affords  a  very  rich  covering  of  purple.  Everything 
here  is  romantic  beyond  imagination  (p.  261). 

"Above  the  house  is  a  romantic  glen  or  cleft  of  a  mountain 
covered  with  hanging  woods,  having  at  bottom  a  stream  of  fine 
water  that  forms  a  number  of  cascades  in  its  descent  to  form  the 
Leven;  so  that  the  scene  is  quite  enchanting  ....  This  country 
is  amazingly  wild,  especially  towards  the  mountains,  which  are 
heaped  upon  the  backs  of  one  another,  making  a  most  stupend- 
ous appearance  of  savage  nature,  with  hardly  any  signs  of  cultiva- 
tion, or  even  of  population.  All  is  sublimity,  silence,  and  soli- 
tude" (p.  263-265). 

In  the  country  of  Ossian  they  find  especial  delight: 

"  These  are  the  lonely  hills  of  Morven,  where  Fingal  and  his 
heroes  enjoyed  the  same  pastime.  I  feel  an  enthusiastic  pleasure 
when  I  survey  the  brown  heath  that  Ossian  was  wont  to  tread; 
and  hear  the  wind  whistle  through  the  bending  grass  ....  The 
poems  of  Ossian  are  in  every  mouth." 

Smollett's  love  for  the  Leven,  that  "  charming  stream  .... 
transparent,  pastoral,  delightful,"  is  further  evidenced  by  his  Ode 
to  the  Leven,  a  single  stanza  of  which  may  be  quoted  here  :  , 


FICTION  223 

"  Pure  stream  in  whose  transparent  wave 
My  youthful  limbs  I  wont  to  lave  ; 
No  torrents  stain  thy  limpid  source, 
No  rocks  impede  thy  dimpling  course, 
That  sweetly  warbles  o'er  its  bed, 
With  white  round  polished  pebbles  spread"  (p.  262). 

Smollett  has  one  character  who  labored  under  aXpo<f>o(iia,  or  ^'.-rxX^^-'O-pUcMj-T.* 
horror  of  green  fields,  hvi.\.  that  was  manifestly  not  his  own  case. 
Though  he  completely  ignored  nature  in  his  other  books,  Hum- 
phrey Clinker  is  ample  proof  of  his  sensitiveness  to  nature  and 
his  descriptive  power.  It  needed  a  touch  of  homesickness  and 
the  vivifying  force  of  early  associations  to  bring  the  feeling 
to  the  surface,  but  as  soon  as  it  found  expression  there  was 
revealed  a  closeness  of  observation  and  a  genuineness  of  affection 
for  nature  in  her  milder  forms  not  found  in  any  novel  before 
Humphrey  Clinker.  The  nearest  approach  to  it  is  in  the  fantastic 
work  of  Amory. 

In  Clara  Reeve's  Old  English  Baron  (1777)  there  is  one^  brief 
conventiona^^passage  about,  the  morning  serenade  of  the   birds, 
and  the  fragrance  of  the  woodbine  (p.  27). 

\n  Julia  de  Roubigne  (1777)  Mackenzie  makes  more  use  of 
nature  than  he  had  in  The  Man  of  Feeling.  Julia  and  Savillon 
are  both  represented  as  finding  pleasure  in  the  beautiful  country 
around  them.     In  one  letter  Julia  says, 

"  Methinks  I  should  hate  to  have  been  born  in  a  town;  when 
I  say  my  native  brook,  or  my  native  hill,  I  talk  of  friends  of 
whom  the  remembrance  warms  my  heart."  In  the  serenity  of 
nature  she  finds  calmness  after  spiritual  tumult.  Belville,  the 
home  of  Julia,  is  described  as  "a  venerable  pile,  the  remains 
of  ancient  Gothic  magnificence."  The  most  attractive  part  of 
the  estate  was  "a  wild  and  rocky  dell,  where  tasteless  wealth  had 
never  warred  on  nature,  nor  even  elegance  refined  or  embellished 
her  beauties.  The  walks  are  only  worn  by  the  tread  of  shepherds 
and  the  banks  only  smoothed  by  the  feeding  of  their  flocks." 
There  is  great  regret  expressed  when  the  new  owner  of  Belville 
cuts  down  the  trees,  and  puts  in  modern  adornments  "which  they 


224 


TREA'IMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 


l^ 


7 


call  Chinese."  In  this  novel  Mackenzie  shows  a  real  though  nar- 
row appreciation  of  free,  unsubdued  nature. 

In  Fanny  Burney's  ^e'^Z/Vm  (1778)  the  only  touch  of  nature  is 
a  criticism  of  Vauxhall  Gardens  as  being  too  formal  and  regular. 
In  Cecilia  (1782)  there  is  no  use  of  nature. 

William  Beckford's  Vathek  (1784)  is_an  extravaganza  where 
there  is  no  pretense  of  representing^  nature  as  it  is.  A  single 
quotation  will  give  the  general  tone.  It  is  a  description  of  a 
high  mountain: 

"  Upon  it  grew  a  hundred  thickets  of  eglantine  and  other  fra- 
grant shrubs,  a  hundred  arbours  of  roses,  jessamines  and  honey- 
suckle, as  many  clumps  of  orange  trees,  cedar,  and  citron  whose 
branches  interwoven  with  the  palm,  the  pomegranate,  and  the 
vine,  presented  every  luxury  that  could  regale  the  eye  or  the 
taste.  The  ground  was  strewed  with  violets,  harebells,  and  pan- 
sies,  in  the  midst  of  which  sprang  forth  tufts  of  jonquils,  hya- 
cinths, and  carnations,  with  every  other  perfume  that  impregnates 

the  air." 
' 

In  Dr.  Moore's  Zeluco  (1789)  neither  the  hero  himself,  that 
"  finished  model  of  depravity,"  nor  any  of  the  characters  associa- 
ted with  him,  show  any  knowledge  of  the  existence  of  any  world 
outside  their  own  intrigues  and  counter-intrigues. 

Mrs.  Inchbald's  A  Simple  Story  (1791)  is  a  study  of  true  and 
false  education.  There  is  in  it  no  word  concerning  nature.  The 
same  may  be  said  of  her  Nature  and  Art,  published  in  1796. 

Godwin's  story,  Caleb  Williams  (1794),  has  one  brief,  conven- 
tional description  of  a  sunrise.  This  ignoring  of  nature  seems 
the  more  surprising  in  Godwin  since  his  next  novel,  published 
ten  years  later,  Fleetwood,  or  the  New  Man  of  Feeling,  is  full  of 
the  wild  scenery  of  Wales  and  is  really  the  study  of  a  character 
made  sensitive  by  early  and  constant  communion  with  nature. 
But  ihis  novel  would  carrv  us  into  the  next  century. 

Another  novel  of  some,  repute  towards  the  close  of  the  cen- 
tury is  Robert  Bage's  Hemsprong,  or  Man  as  He  is  Not  (I"] g6). 
It  was  read  chiefly  for  its  political  bias  towards  the  popular  demo- 
cratical  doctrines.  The  scene  is  laid  chiefly  in  the  country  and 
there  are  occasional  pleasant  bits  of  description.     They  are  unim- 


FICTION  225 

portant,  but  the  book  cannot  be  dismissed  without  a  reference  to 
the  hero  who  was  compelled,  by  lack  of  funds,  to  seek  a  country 
retreat,  and  who  fortified  his  failing  resolution  to  leave  the  beloved 
city  by  quoting  Thomson's  Seasons. 

The  two  authors  who  first  made  extensive  use  of  nature  in 
fiction  are  Mrs.  Charlotte  Smith  and  Mrs.  Ann  Radcliffe. 

Mrs.  Smith  shows  in  her  novels  and  poems  a  really  ardent 
enjoyment,  though  seldom  a  close  knowledge  of  nature.  She 
indulges  in  long  and  animated  descriptions  of  places  of  which 
she  has  only  vaguely  heard  and  the  result  is  sometimes  as  amaz- 
ing as  the  scenes  in  Vathek.  In  The  Old  Manor  House  (1793), 
her  best  work,  a  part  of  the  scene  is  laid  in  the  northern  United 
States  and  Canada.     Here  is  her  idea  of  spring  in  that  region  : 

"  The  forest  in  only  a  few  hours  after  the  severest  weather, 
which  had  buried  the  whole  country  in  snow,  burst  into  bloom, 
and  presented,  beneath  the  tulip  tree  and  the  magnolia,  a  more 
brilliant  variety  of  flowers  than  art  can  collect  in  the  most  culti- 
vated European  garden." 

"  The  following  is  a  description  of  Canada  on  the  banks  of 
the  St.  Lawrence,  "a  very  few  days"  after  the  severest  winter 
weather : 

"  On  the  opposite  side  of  the  river  lay  an  extensive  savannah, 
alive  with  cattle  and  coloured  with  such  a  variety  of  swamp  plants 
that  their  colour,  even  at  that  distance,  detracted  something  from 
the  vivid  green  of  the  new-sprung  grass  ....  The  acclivity  on 
which  the  tents  stood  sinking  very  suddenly  on  the  left,  there 
gave  place  to  a  Cyprus  swamp  ....  while  the  rocks  rising  sud- 
denly and  sharply  were  clothed  with  wood  of  various  species;  the 
evergreen  oak,  the  scarlet  oak,  the  tulip  tree  and  magnolia,  seemed 
bound  together  by  festoons  of  flowers,  some  resembling  the  con- 
volvuleses  of  our  garden,  and  others  the  various  sorts  of  clematis 
with  vegenias  and  the  Virginia  creeper  ....  beneath  these 
fragrant  wreaths  that  wound  about  the  trees,  tufts  of  rhododen- 
drons, and  azalia,  of  andromedas  and  calmias,  grew  in  the  luxuriant 
beauty;  and  strawberries  already  ripening,  or  even  ripe,  peeped 
forth  among  the  rich  vegetation  of  grass  and  flowers." 

Mrs.  Smith's  imagination   certainly  had    other  laws  than   the 


2  26  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

dull  ones  imposed  by  the  facts  of  the  case.  She  could  hardly 
have  mixed  up  zones  and  seasons  and  flowers  and  fruits  more 
successfully  if  she  had  tried.  But  the  notable  point  here  is  that 
there  was  in  her  mind  an  instinctive  and  inevitable  dwelling  upon 
the  scenery  of  the  country  through  which  she  led  her  hero.  The 
English  scenes  are  much  better.  The  following  passage  shows 
well  her  emotional  openness  to  the  influence  of  nature. 

"  Just  as  he  arrived  at  the  water,  from  the  deep  gloom  of  the 
tall  firs  through  which  he  passed,  the  moon  appeared  behind  the 
opposite  coppices,  and  threw  her  long  line  of  trembling  radiance 
on  the  water.  It  was  a  cold  but  clear  evening,  and,  though  early 
in  November,  the  trees  were  not  yet  entirely  stripped  of  their  dis- 
coloured leaves;  a  low  wind  sounded  hollow  through  the  firs  and 
stone  pines  over  his  head,  and  then  faintly  sighed  among  the 
reeds  that  crowded  into  the  water;  no  other  sound  was  heard 
but,  at  distant  intervals,  the  cry  of  the  wild  fowl  concealed  among 
them,  or  the  dull  murmur  of  the  current,  which  was  now  low. 
Orlando  had  hardly  ever  felt  himself  so  impressed  with  those 
feelings  which  inspire  poetic  effusions:  Nature  appeared  to  pause 
and  to  ask  the  turbulent  and  troubled  heart  of  man,  whether  his 
silly  pursuits  were  worth  the  toil  he  undertook  for  them.  Peace 
and  tranquillity  seemed  here  to  have  retired  to  a  transient  abode; 
and  Orlando  as  slowly  he  traversed  the  narrow  path  over  ground 
made  hollow  by  the  roots  of  these  old  trees,  stepped  as  lightly  as 
if  he  feared  to  disturb  them.  Insensibly  he  began  to  compare 
this  scene,  the  scene  he  everyday  saw  of  rural  beauty  and  rural 
content  with  those  into  which  his  destiny  was  about  to  lead  him." 

Mrs.  Barbauld  says  that  Mrs.  Smith  was  one  of  the  first  to 
introduce  description  of  scenery  into  fiction.  That  she  had  pre- 
decessors we  have  already  seen,  but  it  is  true  that  she  laid  much 
more  stress  on  nature  than  had  any  other  novelist  except  Mrs. 
Radcliffe.  Mrs.  Smith  has  frequent  descriptions  that  are  not 
needed  for  the  progress  of  the  plot  or  the  development  of  the 
characters,  but  are  written  purely  for  their  own  sake.  She  also 
often  uses  nature  as  dramatic  background  and  she  represents  her 
hero  as  deeply  influenced  by  nature.  Mrs.  Smith's  poems  further 
attest  her  love  of  nature.     In  one  poem  she  says. 


li 


FICTION  227 

"Farewell,  Arunal  on  whose  varied  shore 
My  early  vows  were  paid  to  Nature's  shrine." 

In  another  she  addresses  the  South  Downs, 

"  Ah,  hills  beloved,  where  once  a  happy  child, 
Your  beechen  shades,  your  turfs,  your  flowers  among, 
I  wove  your  bluebells  into  garlands  wild." 

Mrs.  Smith's   life  was  a  most   unhappy  one,  and    she   found    her 
real  comfort  in  nature. 

Mrs.  ^?^^qX\'&€'%  JRcmiance  of  a  Forest  (1791)  appeared  two 
years  before  The  Old  Manor  House,  and  The  Mysteiics  of  UdolpJw 
(1794)  one  year  after.  In  these  novels  by  Mrs.  Radcliffe  the 
romantic  landscape  was  presented  in  its  complete  form.  Except 
in  the  most  rapid  parts  of  the  story  there  is  greater  stress  on  the 
scenery  than  on  the  characters.  Emily,  Adeline,  and  Clara  sel- 
dom indulge  in  an  emotion  without  first  describing  the  dell  or 
glen  or  forest  glade,  to  which  they  have  wandered.  They  are 
never  too  deeply  agitated  to  observe  the  glories  of  sunrise  and 
sunset.  A  wide  view  can  sooth  any  grief.  This  susceptibility  of 
the  heroines  to  nature  is  represented  as  one  of  their  greatest 
charms.  Mrs.  Radcliffe  had  never  seen  most  of  the  scenes  she 
described.  She  had  never  been  in  France,  Italy,  or  Switzerland. 
The  landscapes  she  gives  us  do  not  bear  the  stamp  of  reality. 
They  are  ideal  compositions  but  they  are  never  merely  an  inven- 
tory nor  are  they  impossible  combinations.  Though  not  exactly 
true,  they  can  be  read  with  pleasure  because  the  details  are 
blended  into  harmonious  and  lovely  pictures  which  seem  to  have 
caught  the  actual  spirit  of  the  places  described.  She  delighted 
in  all  kinds  of  nature,  peaceful  or  wild,  but  her  especial  pleasure 
was  in  those  phases  of  nature  ignored  by  the  classicists.  Moun- 
tains, the  ocean,  the  phenomena  of  the  sky,  and  deep  forests  are 
chiefly  dwelt  upon  in  her  descriptions.  Her  love  of  the  ocean  is 
really  a  new  element  in  the  general  attitude  towards  nature. 
Painting,  poetry,  and  fiction  had  up  to  this  time  practically 
ignored  the  ocean,  but  Mrs.  Radcliffe  in  frequent  passages  shows 
that  her  own  feeling  was  that  of  Adeline,  of  whom  she  says, 
"Of  all    the   grand    objects   which   nature  had   exhibited   the 


2  2  8         TREA  TMENT  OF  NA  TURE  IN  ENGLISH  FOE  TR  V 

ocean  supplied  her  with  the  most  sublime  admiration.  She  loved 
to  wander  alone  by  its  shore."  It  is,  however,  in  the  representation 
of  forest  scenes  that  Mrs.  Radcliffe's  most  effective  work  is  done. 
The  wild  and  terrifying  influence  of  the  dark  woods  that  cover 
the  Appenines,  all  the  dim  and  shadowy  loveliness,  all  the  mys- 
tery and  suggestiveness  of  the  romantic  forest  about  the  ruined 
abbey  reappear  in  her  descriptions.  Her  feeling  towards  moun- 
tains is  one  of  almost  extravagant  delight  in  their  vastness,  their 
wildness,  their  remoteness,  and  inaccessibility.  She  is  deeply 
sensitive  to  all  the  "goings  on"  in  the  sky.  She  catches  with 
accuracy  the  most  ethereal,  delicate,  evanescent  effects.  It  is 
especially  mystery  and  remoteness  that  she  loves,  hence  night, 
moonlight,  and  stars  attract  her.  Closely  connected  with  her 
pleasure  in  the  sky  is  her  artistic  openness  to  all  aerial  transfor- 
mations. In  her  wide  views  over  land  and  sea,  in  vistas  caught 
through  forest  glades,  in  pictures  of  twilight,  or  dawn,  of  sunrise, 
or  sunset,  she  seldom  fails  to  note  the  quick  shiftings  of  color 
and  form,  the  interplay  of  light  and  shade,  the  dimness,  the  trans- 
parence ,  the  luminosity,  resulting  from  atmospheric  changes. 

She  looked  upon  nature  not  only,  as  she  said  of  one  of  her  own 
characters,  "with  the  eye  of  an  artist,  but  with  the  raptures  of  a 
poet."  The  effect  of  nature  on  man  in  soothing  his  grief,  modi- 
fying his  passions,  and  elevating  his  character  is  everywhere 
insisted  upon.  As  Adeline's  eyes  "wandered  through  the  roman- 
tic glades  that  opened  into  the  forest  her  heart  was  gladdened." 
Through  the  melancholy  boughs  the  evening  twilight  which  still 
coloured  the  air,  "  diffused  a  solemnity  that  vibrated  in  thrilling 
sensations  upon  the  hearts  of  the  travellers.  .  .  .  The 
tranquillity  of  the  scene,  which  autumn  had  touched  with  her 
sweetest  tints,  softened  her  mind  to  a  tender  kind  of  melancholy." 

The  Alps  "  filled  her  mind  with  sublime  emotions."  The 
solitary  grandeur  of  these  scenes  both  "  assisted  and  soothed 
the  melancholy  of  her  heart."  .  .  .  The  stillness  and  total 
seclusion  of  the  scene,  the  stupendous  mountains,  the  gloomy 
grandeur  of  the  woods,  "diffuse  a  sacred  enthusiasm  over  the 
mind  and  awaken  sensations  truly  sublime."  .  .  .  Such  a 
scene   "fills    the   soul    with    emotions    of    indescribable  awe,  and 


FICTION  229 

seems  to  lift  it  to  a  nobler  nature."  .  .  .  "It  was  in  the  tranquil 
observation  of  beautiful  nature"  that  Clara's  mind  recovered  its 
tone.  .  .  .  The  moonlight  on  the  sea  seemed  to  "diffuse 
peace."  .  .  .  Twilight  sometimes  "inspires  the  mind  with 
pensive  tenderness,"  sometimes  "exalts  it  to  sublime  mediations." 
The  Alps  inspire  reflections  that  "soften  and  elevate  the 
heart  and  fill  it  with  the  certainty  of  a  present  God."  Such 
expressions  were  repeated  with  an  insistence  that  becomes 
monotonous.  There  is,  indeed,  an  element  of  sameness  in  all 
the  descriptions,  an  effect  the  more  tiresome  because  they  are  so 
numerous.  So  large  a  descriptive  element  would  hardly  be 
admitted  in  a  novel  today  unless  justified  by  some  remarkable 
power  of  word  painting.  Mrs.  Radcliffe's  descriptions  would 
doubtless  invite  the  modern  reader,  at  least  after  a  steady  prog- 
ress through  four  or  five  volumes,  to  do  some  judicious  skipping. 
But  thought  of  as  in  her  own  day,  Mrs.  Radcliffe  must  always 
rank  as  a  discoverer,  so  new  and  fresh  was  this  element  she 
brought  into  fiction.  As  is  usual  with  discoverers  she  overworked 
her  idea.  She  was  not  a  great  genius.  She  was  often  weakly 
sentimental.  But  she  had  a  genuine  and  most  ardent  love  of 
nature,  and,  when  at  her  best,  had  exceptional  descriptive  power. 
Her  fame  and  her  influence  on  succeeding  literature  rest  on  these 
characteristics. 

In  Fiction,  as  in  Travels  and  Poetry  and  Gardening,  there 
is  the  transfer  of  interest  from  what  man  does  or  is  to  the 
powers  of  untrammeled  nature.  The  new  spirit  here,  as  in 
Travels,  is  late  in  finding  adequate  expression.  We  can  hardly 
put  any  real  beginnings  of  it  earlier  than  _/<?////  Biincle  (1756-66). 
Even  after  that,  development  is  spasmodic  and  slow. '  In  most 
of  the  novels  and  romances  we  find  the  romantic  impulse  to  see 
strange  lands,  but  men  and  manners  absorb  the  attention  of  the 
travelers.  Mrs.  Radcliffe's  fugitives  in  The  Romance  of  the  Forest, 
the  travelers  in  The  Mysteries  of  Udolpho,  and  Mrs.  Brooke's 
soldier  in  Emily  Montague  are  really  the  first  to  make  much  of 
the  scenery  through  which  they  pass. 

In  general  we  may  say  that  novels  had  little  to  do  with 
nature,  and  romances  much.     This  may  account  for  the  lack  of 


23° 


TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  LY  ENGLISH  POETRY 


reality  in  tlie  descriptions.  There  is  notliing  in  any  work  of 
fiction  at  all  correspondent  to  the  temperate,  truthful,  clear-cut 
work  of  Cowper  and  Burns.  There  is  practically  nothing  of  the 
bald  realism  of  John  Scott,  whose  poetry  was  written  rather  in 
the  scientific  temper  with  which  most  travels  were  undertaken. 
Nor,  on  the  other  hand,  is  there  anything  of  the  visionary,  mys- 
tical power  of  Blake.  The  best  use  of  nature  in  fiction  is  more 
akin  to  the  emotionalism  of  Beattie.  Really,  except  for  Mrs. 
Radcliffe,  and  she  came  late  in  the  century,  fiction  contributed 
less  to  bring  about  the  new  attitude  towards  nature  than  did  any 
other  form  of  art  expression,  except,  perhaps,  landscape  painting. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

LANDSCAPE    PAINTING. 

Two  serious  difficulties  present  themselves  in  any  attempted 
study  of  the  development  of  English  landscape  painting  up  to 
1800.  One  difficulty  is  that  most  of  the  pictures  are  practically 
inaccessible,  many  of  them  being  known  only  by  name  and  the 
more  famous  ones  being  scattered  through  various  private  and 
public  galleries.  The  second  difficulty  in  tracing  any  progress 
or  development  is  that  the  pictures  are  usually  undated.  As  a 
rule  the  most  that  can  be  known  is  that  such  and  such  a  picture 
belongs  in  the  earlier  or  later  portion  of  the  artist's  productive 
period.  Furthermore,  any  adequate  study  would  require  close 
knowledge  of  artistic  technicalities  and  mechanical  processes,  for 
much  of  the  development  is  along  the  line  of  improved  paper, 
better  pigments,  new  methods  of  work. 

A  recognition  of  these  difficulties  confines  the  following 
brief  sketch  to  very  narrow  lines.  But  fortunately  the  objective 
point  in  the  present  study  renders  first-hand  and  technical 
knowledge  less  imperative  than  it  would  otherwise  be.  It  is  not 
so  much  the  artist's  method  or  his  degree  of  success  that  is  here 
of  interest.  It  is  rather  what  his  tastes  led  him  to  wish  to  do, 
what  subjects  he  thought  worthy  of  serious  study,  what  concep- 
tion of  nature  guided  his  work.  Such  information  may  be  fairly 
gleaned  from  biographies,  letters,  historical  accounts,  and  critical 
essays.' 

'  In  this  sketch  the  following  works  have  been  used  : 
Adolph  Siret :  Dictionnaire  Historique  des  Peintres. 
Spooner  :  Dictionary  of  Painters. 

Champlin  and  Perkins :  Cyclopedia  of  Painters  and  Paintings. 
Bryan  :  Dictionary  of  Painters  and  Engravers. 
Cunningham  :  British  Painters. 
Brydall  :  Art  in  Scotland. 

Redgrave  :  Water  Colour  Painting  in  England. 

231 


232         TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRV 

Up  to  1725  English  painting  is  almost  entirely  concerned 
with  portraits  and  occasional  historical  pictures.  Even  a 
landscape  background  is  of  rare  occurrence.  The  same  spirit  pre- 
vails throughout  the  eighteenth  century;  the  predominating  interest 
is  in  such  aspects  of  painting  as  have  especially  to  do  with  man. 
But  along  with  this  interest  in  portraits  and  historical  represen- 
tations, there  was  growing  up  an  interest  in  landscape  for  its  own 
sake ;  and  in  the  pictures  where  the  human  element  still  ruled 
there  was  a  change  from  the  portrait  of  the  noble  lord  or  lady, 
to  pictures  of  humble  life  in  rustic  surroundings.  It  is  this  two- 
fold change  that  is  to  be  briefly  indicated  here.' 

Though  Gainsborough  and  Wilson  are  usually  counted  the 
founders  of  the  modern  English  school  of  landscape  painting, 
we  find  indications  that  before  their  day  some  essays  had  been 
made  towards  the  representation  of  nature.  Francis  Place 
(d.  1728)  is  casually  mentioned  as  having  painted  "a  few  land- 
scapes "  for  his  own  amusement.  Samuel  Scott,  whose  work 
comes  after  1725,  was  called  the  best  marine  painter  of  his  time. 
Two  fine  examples  of  his  work  are  Westminster  Bridge,  77^5,  and 
London  Bridge,  1745.  George  Lambert  (17 10-1765)  is  said  by 
Bryan  to  be  "  the  first  English  painter  who  treated  landscape 
with  a  pleasing  and  picturesque  effect."  John  Wooton  (d.  1765) 
painted  chiefly  racehorses  and  hunting  scenes.  In  1727  he 
illustrated  Gay's  Fables.     He  also  painted  "  excellent  landscapes  " 

'Biese  in  Die  Entwickelung  des  Naturgefiihls,  pp.  209-248,  gives  a  brief 
resume  of  the  development  of  landscape  painting  in  Germany.  He  calls 
Rubens  and  his  school  the  first  to  make  the  painting  of  nature  an  independent 
branch  of  art,  while  Ruysdael  (1681)  is  the  one  in  vi^hom  "die  ganze  Poesie  der 
Natur"  finds  expression.  His  chapter  closes  with  these  words :  "Alle  diese 
grossen  Niederlander  eilen  weit  der  Poesie  ihrer  Zeit  voraus ;  Gebirge  und 
Meer  finden  im  Wort  erst  100  Jahre  spater  ihre  begeisterten  Schilderer,  und  ein 
in  sich  stimmungsvoll,  abgeschlossenes,  lyrisches  Landschaftsbild  wird  erst  am 
Ende  des  achtzehnten  Jahrhunderts  in  der  deutschen  Dichtung  geboren."  In 
England,  it  will  be  observed,  the  love  of  nature  finds  earlier  and  more  abundant 
expression  in  poetry  than  in  painting,  and  its  completest  expression  in  Words- 
worth's poetry  precedes  its  complete  expression  in  the  great  English  landscape 
painters  of  the  early  19th  century.  See  also  for  brief  rdsumd  of  "  Landschafts- 
malerei  "  as  an  indication  mainly  of  the  increasing  knowledge  of  distant  lands 
new  forms  of  vegetation,  etc.,  Humboldt,  Kosmos,  Vol.  2,  pp.  47-5^- 


LANDSCAPE  PAINTING  233 

in  the  Italian  style.  The  Smiths  of  Chichester  were  brothers  who 
attained  much  local  celebrity  by  the  landscapes  they  painted  of 
the  scenery  in  their  own  neighborhood.  Their  work  comes  after 
1735-  Of  more  importance  is  Paul  Sandby  (i 725-1809),  a  tal- 
ented artist  who  at  eighteen  went  as  a  draughtsman  with  the  Duke 
of  Cumberland  through  the  Scotch  Highlands,  and  who  was  so 
deeply  impressed  with  the  beautiful  scenery  that  he  brought 
back  many  drawings  of  it.  Nine  years  later  he  made  seventy  draw- 
ings of  the  scenery  about  Windsor.  He  also  traveled  in  North 
and  South  Wales  and  made  many  drawings  of  the  picturesque  scen- 
ery there.  He  is  called  "  the  first  to  infuse  nature  into  topograph- 
ical drawings."'  An  Irish  painter  of  this  period  was  John  Butts 
(d.  1764),  the  talented  pupil  of  a  mediocre  artist  named  Rogers, 
who  is  called  the  father  of  landscape  art  in  Ireland.  Butts's  early 
landscapes  were  "  impressive  copies  from  the  wild  scenes  which 
abound  in  the  county  of  Cork,  and  the  romantic  views  that 
abound  on  the  margin  of  Black  Water."  Brydall  says  that 
James  Norris  was  "  probably  the  first  to  create,  or  at  least  to  min- 
ister to  the  taste  for  landscape  painting  in  the  Scottish  metropo- 
lis." Alexander  Runciman  (i  736-1 785)  began  to  paint  landscapes 
when  he  was  but  twelve  years  old.  "  Other  artists,"  it  was  said, 
"  talked  meat  and  drink,  but  Runciman  talked  landscape."  He 
exhibited  landscapes  in  1755,  but  finding  that  no  one  would  buy 
his  pictures  he  turned,  in  1750,  to  historical  paintings.  One  of 
Runciman's  most  romantic  undertakings  was  the  decoration  of 
the  hall  at  Pennycuik  with  paintings  representing  the  poems  of 
Ossian. 

From  this  brief  summary  of  landscape  art  in  Great  Britain 
before  1755  it  will  be  seen  that,  late  and  feeble  as  were  these 
beginnings,  they  are  yet  significant  of  the  coming  treatment  of 
nature  in  art.  There  is  an  effort  to  represent  landscape,  an  evi- 
dent enjoyment  of  it,  some  first-hand  study,  and  some  pleasure 
in  the  wilder  aspects  of  the  external  world. 

'Scott,  in  his  Essay  on  Painting,  speaks  of  "Smith's  delightful  spots"  and 
'Sandby's  pleasant  fields."     In  the  same  Essay  he  proposes  hay-fields  and  hop- 
grounds  as  new  subjects  of  landscape,  acknowledging  that  he  is  indebted  for 
the  idea  to  Walpole. 


2  34  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

The  period  before  1755  may  properly  be  called  the  period  of 
inception.  The  rest  of  the  century  is  the  period  of  establish- 
ment, at  the  very  beginning  of  which  stand  Gainsborough  and 
Wilson. 

Richard  Wilson  (1713-1782)  intended  to  be  a  portrait  painter 
and  went  to  Italy  to  study  under  Zuccarelli.  While  there  he 
sketched  a  landscape  in  "an  idle  hour"  and  was  straightway  per- 
suaded by  Zuccarelli  and  Vernet  that  he  had  found  his  true 
work.  His  success  was  almost  immediate.  In  1755  he  returned 
to  England  and  in  1760  exhibited  the  "  Niobe  "  which  estab- 
tablished  his  reputation  as  a  landscape  painter.  For  the  repre- 
sentation of  nature  he  had  a  twofold  preparation,  his  youth  in 
Wales  and  his  years  of  study  in  Italy.  "  He  had  long,"  says 
Allan  Cunningham,  "  been  insensibly  storing  his  mind  with  the 
beauties  of  natural  scenery,  and  the  picturesque  mountains  and 
glens  of  his  native  Wales  had  been  to  him  an  academy  when  he 
was  unconscious  of  their  influence."  In  Italy  he  was  led  by  his 
extravagant  admiration  of  Claude  to  study  such  landscape  effects 
as  Claude  had  produced.  His  appreciation  of  nature  was  doubt- 
less, as  Cunningham  says,  greatly  strengthened  by  his  early  sur- 
roundings, but  it  was  the  years  in  Italy  that  determined  his  choice 
of  artistic  themes.  He  always  preferred  scenes  of  classic  fame. 
The  four  pictures  in  the  Vernon  Gallery,  "The  Ruined  Temple," 
"  Ruins  in  Italy,"  "  Hadrian's  Villa,"  and  "  Lake  Avernus,"  are 
fine  characteristic  specimens  of  his  work.  But  though  his  pic- 
tures are  foreign  in  subject  and  manner  of  treatment,  and  though 
he  did  sometimes  introduce  "  gods,  goddesses  and  ideal  beings  " 
into  his  landscapes,  he  was  nevertheless  the  first  of  English 
artists  to  show  the  possibilities  of  landscape  art.  He  loved  his 
work  passionately  and  became  so  devoted  to  it  that  he  lost  all 
interest  in  men  or  in  animals  except  as  they  "composed  well  "  in 
his  landscapes.  He  did  not  copy  other  painters,  but  depended 
on  nature  for  his  inspiration.  While  he  counted  painting  "  fac- 
similes of  scenes  "  mere  "  unpoetic  drudgery,"  he  was  always  true 
to  the  general  spirit  of  the  landscape.  Cunningham  says  that  he 
caught  the  very  "  hue  and  character  of  Italian  scenery."  "  He 
observed  Nature  in  all  her  appearances,"  says  Fuseli,  "  and  had  a 


\ 


LANDSCAPE  PAINTING  235 

characteristic  touch  for  all  her  forms."  There  was,  moreover,  a 
grandeur  and  sublimity  of  conception,  a  depth  and  tenderness  of 
poetic  feeling  about  Wilson's  pictures  such  as  is  not  found  in 
English  landscapes  again  before  Girtin.  Cunningham  sums  up 
his  work  in  the  following  words  :  "  Wilson  had  a  poet's  feeling 
and  a  poet's  eye,  selected  his  scenes  with  judgment  and  spread 
them  out  in  beauty  and  in  all  the  fresh  luxury  of  nature.  He  did 
for  landscape  what  Reynolds  did  for  faces  —  with  equal  genius, 
but  far  different  fortune." 

Sir  George  Beaumont,  himself  an  amateur  artist  of  no  small 
ability,  said  that  Wilson's  genius  had  the  qualities  of  Gray's 
poem  The  Bard,  while  Gainsborough  was  more  akin  to  The 
Elegy. 

The  point  of  this  remark  so  far  as  Gainsborough  (i 727-1 788) 
is  concerned  must  be  simply  that  he  was  ■distinctively  the  painter 
of  rural  England.  His  love  of  nature  was  early  shown.  Before 
he  was  twelve  it  was  his  delight  to  spend  his  mornings  in  the  woods 
of  Suffolk  sketching  from  streams,  trees,  cattle,  sheep,  and  peas- 
ants. From  fourteen  to  eighteen  he  was  in  a  London  academy 
studying  portrait  painting,  but  though  he  made  that  his  business, 
"  landscape  had  his  heart.  "  "  Madam  Nature,  not  man,  was  his 
sole  study,"  says  Thickesse  speaking  of  later  days  at  Ipswich.  He 
said  himself  that  to  be  well-read  in  the  volume  of  nature  was  all 
the  learning  he  wished.  He  rebelled  against  the  doctrine  of  the 
schools.  He  said  that  landscape  could  be  studied  only  from 
nature  herself  and  felt  with  Hogarth  that  the  canvas  should 
not  be  "thrust  between  the  student  and  the  sky  —  tradition 
between  him  and  God."  So  far  as  earlier  artists  influenced  him 
at  all  it  was  the  Dutch  and  Flemish  schools  whose  methods  he 
studied.  He  gave  especial  attention  to  Wynants  and  Ruysdael. 
His  earlier  pictures  show  "  close  adherence  to  local  scenery  and 
minute  and  careful  finishing,"  as  for  instance  the  "  young  oak 
painted  leaf  for  leaf."  Reynolds  speaks  of  his  "  portrait  like 
representation  "  of  nature,  and  adds  :  "  If  Gainsborough  did 
not  look  at  nature  with  a  poet's  eye  it  must  be  acknowledged  that 
he  saw  her  with  the  eye  of  a  painter,  and  gave  a  faithful  if  not 
a  poetical  representation  of  what  he  had  before  him."     To    this 


236         TREA  TMENT  OF  NA  TURE  IN  ENGLISH  FOE  FR  V 

view  of  the  fidelity  of  Gainsborough's  English  landscapes  all 
agree,  but  the  lack  of  poetry  in  his  pictures  is  certainly  denied 
by  one  as  well  able  to  judge  as  Reynolds.  Constable,  one  of  the 
best  early  English  landscape  painters  said  of  Gainsborough's 
landscapes  :  "  They  are  soothing,  tender,  and  affecting.  The 
stillness  of  noon,  the  depths  of  twilight,  and  the  dews  and  pearls 
of  the  morning  are  all  to  be  found  on  the  canvases  of  this  most 
benevolent  and  kind-hearted  man.  On  looking  at  them  we  find 
tears  in  our  eyes,  and  know  not  what  brings  them.  The  lonely 
haunts  of  the  solitary  shepherd, — the  return  of  the  rustic  with 
his  bill  and  bundle  of  wood,^ — the  darksome  lane  or  dell,  —  the 
sweet  little  cottage  girl  at  the  spring  with  her  pitcher,  were  the 
things  which  he  delighted  to  paint,  and  which  he  painted  with 
exquisite  refinement, yet  not  a  refinement  beyond  nature."  "  He 
was  first,"  says  Thornbury,  "  to  show  us  that  there  was  poetry  in 
English  rustic  life." 

It  seems  fortunate  for  English  landscape  art  that  two  men  so 
unlike  in  education,  temperament,  and  taste  as  Wilson  and 
Gainsborough  should  have  come  at  the  formative  period  of  that 
art.  One  brought  in  the  Dutch,  the  other  the  Italian  influence, 
yet  each  was  too  strong  an  individuality  to  be  a  mere  copyist. 
The  one  painted  with  poetic  comprehension,  and  even  with  a 
touch  of  sublimity,  the  sunny  skies,  clear  air,  bright  lakes  and 
ruined  temples  of  classic  lands.  The  other  painted  with  genuine 
tenderness  and  affection  the  lovely  scenes  of  rural  England. 
Both  loved  nature  passionately,  both  strove  to  express  this  love  in 
their  pictures.  Whatever  the  imperfections  of  their  work  from 
an  artistic  point  of  view,  from  the  point  of  view  of  a  growing 
taste  for  nature  the  landscapes  of  these  artists  are  of  the  greatest 
importance.  They  show  that  shortly  after  the  middle  of  the  cen- 
tury the  new  spirit  had  entered  the  realms  of  art  as  it  had  entered 
other  realms  of  thought  and  emotion.  The  transfer  of  interest 
from  man  to  nature  is  in  many  of  the  pictures  of  Wilson  and 
Gainsborough  distinctly  marked. 

Contemporary  with  Wilson  and  Gainsborough  were  many 
artists  of  less  genius  and  subsequent  fame,  some  of  whom  must 
be  mentioned  here  because  they  show  the  different  phases  taken 


I 


LANDSCAPE  PAINTING  237 

on  by  the  growing  love  of  nature.  Of  genre  painters  only  those 
need  be  mentioned  who  depicted  rustic  people  in  country  sur- 
roundings. Of  these  the  chief  are  David  Allan  and  George 
Morland.  David  Allan's  (i 744-1 796)  best  work  is  his  set  of 
illustrations  of  The  Gentle  Shepherd.  He  went  to  the  Pentland 
Hills  and  studied  both  the  places  and  the  people  he  wished  to 
represent.  "  He  visited,"  says  Cunningham,  "  every  hill,  dale, 
tree,  stream,  and  cottage,  which  could  be  admitted  into  the  land- 
scape of  the  poet.  .  .  .  Glaid's  farm  house,  the  Monk's 
burn,  the  Linn,  the  Washing  Green,  Habbie's  How,  New  Hall 
House,  and  that  little  breast-deep  basin  in  the  burn,  called  Peg- 
gie's pool,  were  all  carefully  drawn."  It  was  Allan's  endeavor  to 
do  in  painting  what  Ramsay  had  done  half  a  century  before  in 
poetry,  and  though  his  pictures  are  far  from  expressing  the 
brightness  and  beauty  of  the  poem,  they  fairly  take  rank  as 
important  attempts  to  represent  native  landscapes  from  careful, 
first-hand  observation. 

George  Morland's  (i  764-1804)  very  early  pictures  were  copies 
from  Dutch  originals,  mainly  tavern  interiors,  but  he  afterwards 
painted  some  admirable  scenes  from  the  Isle  of  Wight  which  he 
loved  to  visit.  In  general  his  landscapes  were  of  inland  scenes 
and  of  the  most  confined,  homely  sort.  The  "  barn-yard,  the 
piggery,  and  the  cow-house "  were  his  favorite  subjects.  He 
never  idealized  his  rustics  or  their  surroundings.  His  merit  was 
absolute  fidelity  to  fact,  and  he  made  no  poetic  selection  of  the 
facts  to  be  represented.  He  was  literally  a  copyist  from  nature. 
His  pictures  of  country  life  and  scenery  had  the  relentless 
realism  of  Crabbe's  poetry,  and  it  is  interesting  to  note  that 
Crabbe's  Village  came  out  in  1783,  when  Morland  was  painting 
his  most  disagreeably  truthful  pictures  of  English  country  life. 

Of  the  painters  who  after  1760  devoted  themselves  chiefly  to 
landscape  we  find  a  number  who  show  an  interest  in  the  moun- 
tainous regions  of  Wales  and  the  Lake  District  similar  to  that 
shown  in  Poetry,  Fiction,  and  Travels.  One  of  the  most  excel- 
lent pictures  of  Joseph  Wright  of  Derby  (i 734-1 797)  who  was 
reckoned  almost  equal  in  power  to  Wilson,  was  "  The  Head  of 
Ulleswater."       Edward    Dayes    (i 760-1804)    also    made    many 


238         TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

Studies  of  Keswick  Lake,  Windermere,  and  the  neighboring 
scenes.  Mr.  Gilpin  in  the  Preface  to  his  book  on  Cumberland 
(pub.  1786)  says  that  description  seems  useless  since  there  are 
prints  "  so  accurate  and  beautiful  "  as  those  of  Mr.  Farrington 
representing  Lodore,  Skiddaw,  Derwentwater,  and  other  places. 
That  there  were  earlier  studies  we  know  from  Amory's  statement 
in  John  Bunch  that  Cumberland  scenery  was  far  more  beautiful 
than  Dr.  Dalton's  brother's  drawings  would  seem  to  indicate. 
Late  in  the  century  came  William  Havell  (1782-1841),  who  began 
to  paint  mountain  scenes  while  still  a  mere  boy.  He  studied  in 
Wales  and  then  for  two  years  in  Westmoreland.  Of  far  greater 
genius  than  any  of  these  is  Thomas  Girtin  (17 75-1802)  of  whom 
Ruskin  says  :  "  He  is  often  as  impressive  to  me  as  nature  her- 
self ;  nor  do  I  doubt  that  Turner  owed  more  to  his  teaching  and 
companionship  than  to  his  own  genius  in  the  first  years  of  his 
life."  Poynter  says  that  Girtin  was  "the  first  who  successfully 
attempted  to  represent  in  water  colors  the  grandeur  and  sublimity 
of  mountain  scenery,  and  to  imitate  the  bold  contrasts  of  light 
and  shadow,  of  gloom  and  sunshine  which  occur  in  nature."  He 
made  e.xcursions  into  "  the  most  paintable  parts  of  England  and 
Wales,  and  even  extending  his  excursions  to  Scotland."  He 
painted  views  from  Scotland,  Wales,  the  Lake  District  and 
Devonshire.  John  Crome  (i 769-1821),  founder  of  the  Norwich 
School,  and  famous  for  his  studies  of  foliage,  is  another  of  the 
artists  who  studied  nature  in  the  Lake  District. 

The  interest  in  Avild  scenery  is  largely  confined  to  northern 
England,  but,  as  we  have  seen,  Wales  is  not  neglected.  And 
along  with  Girtin's  studies  of  Scotland  are  George  Barret's  views 
(1795)  of  Yorkshire  and  Loch  Lomond.  Another  painter  of 
mountains  is  Charles  Fox  (i 749-1809).  He  is  interesting  as  the 
first  recorded  artist  to  visit  Norway,  Sweden,  and  Russia,  for  the 
purpose  of  representing  the  wild  scenery  of  those  countries.  The 
interest  in  mountains  and  lakes  was  so  well  established  by  the 
end  of  the  century  that  when  Constable  made  a  tour  of  Westmore- 
land and  found  nothing  to  his  mind  but  turned  rather  to  culti- 
vated scenery,  his  preference  was  counted  something  rather  novel. 

Other  phases  of  interest  in  nature  manifest  themselves.     The 


LANDSCAPE  PAINTING  239 

romantic  interest  in  the  remote  combined  with  the  interest  in 
nature  shows  in  such  pictures  as  those  of  South  Sea  Island  scen- 
ery by  John  Webber,  who  went  with  Cook  on  one  of  his  voyages 
(1780) ;  or  Thomas  Hearne's  water-color  sketches  of  "the  lovely 
scenery  of  the  West  Indies"  (1768-71) ;  or  Alexander's  drawings 
of  Chinese  scenery  (1792-8)  ;  or  the  Russian  scenes  already  noted, 
by  Fox,  or  the  Italian  scenes  painted  for  Mr.  Beckford  by  John 
R.  Cozens  (1742-1799). 

Among  the  artists  who  painted  English  scenes  are  some  who 
are  noted  for  specific  excellencies,  as  Francis  Nicholson  (1753- 
1844)  who  studied  especially  waterfalls  and  rapid  streams.  Abra- 
ham Pether  (i  756-181 2)  devoted  himself  so  exclusively  to  moon- 
light and  evening  that  he  was  known  as  "  moonlight  Pether." 
J.  Ibbetson  was  highly  praised  in  his  own  day  for  his  truth  to 
English  scenes.  A  critical  review  by  "  Anthony  Pasquin"  of  the 
pictures  exhibited  in  1795  speaks  of  Ibbetson  in  terms  that  show 
what  had  at  that  time  come  to  be  recognized  as  some  of  the  desira- 
ble qualities  in  an  excellent  piece  of  landscape  work,  namely  first- 
hand observation,  truth  to  such  nature  as  the  artist  himself  knew, 
and  individuality  of  presentation.     "Anthony  Pasquin"  says, 

"  When  many  of  our  present  race  of  landscape  painters  wish 
to  make  a  study,  they  do  it  by  their  firesides ;  they  take  an  old 
perished  copy  of  Wynants,  Ruysdael,  or  Hobbima,  or  a  damaged 
copy  from  some  eminent  artist,  and  compose  by  stealing  a  tree  from 
one,  a  dock-leaf  from  another,  and  a  waterfall  from  a  third.  By 
this  means  we  have  Flemish  landscapes  peopled  with  English 
figures,  and  the  same  unvaried  scenes  served  up  ad  infinitum. 
Very  different  is  the  conduct  of  Mr.  Ibbetson.  His  views  are 
taken  from  nature  ;  and  in  his  pictures  we  see  our  own  country 
as  in  a  mirror,  painted  in  a  style  peculiarly  his  own." 

The  landscape  painters  of  the  eighteenth  century  evinced  lit- 
tle interest  in  what  Bakhuysen  called  "sea-scapes."  Though 
several  artists  are  marked  as  marine  painters,  a  closer  examination 
shows  in  most  cases  that  the  pictures  designated  as  marine  corres- 
pond well  with  Young's  Sea  Pieces.  For  instance,  the  forty  pic- 
tures ascribed  to  Dominic  Serres  {circa  1765)  are  all  of  naval 
engagements   in  honor  of   English  prowess,  and  done  in  his  offi- 


2  4  o  TREA  TMENT  OF  NA  TURE  IN  ENGLISH  FOE  TR  V 

cial  capacity  as  "Marine  Painter  to  the  King."  An  artist  who 
exhibited  about  1770,  John  Cleveley,  had  been  a  dock-hand,  and 
he  painted  his  sea-views  i:oH  amore  but  without  much  technical 
skill.  Nicholas  Pocock  first  exhibited  in  1782.  He  had  been 
brought  up  at  sea  and  did  his  first  work  as  an  artist  while  still 
commanding  a  vessel.  He  devoted  himself  chiefly  to  naval 
actions.  A  more  gifted  artist  was  Richard  Wright  of  the  Isle  of 
Man.  In  1764  and  1766  he  took  the  prizes  offered  by  the  Society 
of  Arts  for  the  best  marine  pictures.  "The  Fishery,"  engraved 
by  Woollett,  is  his  best  known  work.  The  great  period  of  English 
landscape  art  does  not  come  till  some  years  after  1798,  the  limit 
of  this  study.  But  Turner  was  born  in  1775,  and  Constable  in 
1776,  so  that  they  did  much  of  their  studying,  and  practically 
fixed  their  ideals  of  work  under  such  influences  as  the  eighteenth 
century  brought. 

In  general  we  may  note  with  regard  to  landscape  painting 
that  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  the  century  the  pendulum 
has  taken  its  usual  swing.  It  has  traversed  the  arc  from  a  pre- 
dominating interest  in  man  to  a  predominating  interest  in  nature. 
From  having  landscape  as  an  unimportant  background,  man  has 
become  an  unimportant  detail  in  landscape.  But  the  love  of 
nature  in  art  is  later  in  its  beginnings  than  in  poetry,  and  comes 
to  its  final  maturity  some  years  later  than  does  the  poetry.  The 
characteristic  work  of  Coleridge,  Scott,  and  Wordsworth  was  prac- 
tically done  before  that  of  Constable,  Turner,  Copley  Fielding, 
and  David  Cox. 

The  chief  foreign  influences  were  Dutch  and  Italian.  Claude, 
the  Poussins,  and  Salvator  Rosa  were  the  artists  most  studied 
The  atmospheric  effects,  the  wide  landscapes,  and  the  ruined 
temples  of  Claude  were  especially  attractive  to  the  artists  of  the 
time,  and  he  was  assiduously  copied.  On  the  whole,  painting 
was  less  original  and  freed  itself  more  slowly  from  masters  than 
any  other  form  in  which  the  love  of  nature  found  expression. 

The  general  phases  of  interest  as  shown  in  the  painting  are 
similar  to  those  in  the  poetry.  The  awakened  curiosity  of  the 
age  finds  expression  in  the  many  pictures  of  foreign  scenes.  The 
delight  in  rustic   life  is  well  represented   by  Morland  and  Allan 


LANDSCAPE  PAINTING  241 

on  its  homely  realistic  side,  and  by  Gainsborough  on  its  refined 
side.  There  are  frequent  attempts  to  represent  the  evanescent 
beauties  of  sunrise  and  sunset,  of  twilight,  and  moonlight.  There 
is  much  enthusiasm  for  wild  scenery.  No  one  characteristic  of 
the  painting  is  more  marked  than  its  devotion  to  mountains  and 
lakes,  especially  those  of  northern  England.  There  is  a  strong 
personal  delight  in  nature  for  her  own  sake,  and  sometimes  not 
merely  a  sensuous  pleasure  in  color  and  form,  but  a  deeper  poetic 
conception  of  the  significance  and  power  of  nature. 


l7^ 


CHAPTER  VII. 


GENERAL    SUMMARY. 


During  the  period   from  Waller  to   Pope  the  general  feeling 

towards  nature  was  one  of   indifference.     The   whole  emphasis 

„    ,.       ^         ,  was  on  man  in  his  hiafher  social  relations,  and  only 
Feeling  toward  ^  ■' 

nature  in  early  such  parts  of  nature  as  were  easily  subordinated  to 
i8th  century  man  were  looked  upon  with  pleasure.  The  facts 
compared  with  of  nature  were  little  known.  They  were  stated  in 
feeling  in  early  (-gj-j-j^g  i^^erely  imitative  and  conventional.  The 
new  feeling  towards  nature,  as  exemplified  in  the 
early  nineteenth  century  poets,  especially  Wordsworth,  on  the 
contrary,  is  marked  by  full  and  first-hand  observation,  by  a 
rich,  sensuous  delight  in  form,  color,  sound,  and  motion;  by  a 
strong  preference  for  the  wilder,  freer  forms  of  nature's  life,  by 
an  enthusiasm  for  nature  passionate  in  its  intensity,  by  a  recog- 
nition of  the  divine  life  in  nature,  and  finally  by  a  consciousness 
of  the  interpenetration  of  that  life  and  the  life  of  man.  At  the 
beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century,  in  poetry,  travels,  fiction, 
painting,  and  gardens,  it  was  the  classical  feeling  toward  nature 
that  predominated.  By  the  end  of  the  century  the  new  feeling 
had  found  abundant,  varied,  and  original  statement.  The  change 
is  a  great  one.  From  Pope  to  Wordsworth,  from  Le  Notre  to 
Repton,  from  Kneller  to  Turner,  from  Richardson  to  Mrs.  Rad- 
cliffe,  from  Brand  to  Gilpin,  the  pendulum  swings.  Whether 
men  painted  pictures  or  made  gardens,  or  went  on  journeys,  or 
told  tales  of  love  and  adventure,  or  wrote  poems,  the  new  spirit 
was  at  work  within  them,  sending  them  forth  into  the  world  of 
nature  and  bidding  them  bear  witness  to  her  power  and  love- 
liness. 

Early  manifestations  of  the  new  sj)irit  did  not,  however,  find 
exactly  contemporaneous  expression   in   these  various  art-forms. 

242 


4 


I 


GENERAL  SUMMARY  243 

Thomson's  Seasons  and   Pope's   Fourth   Epistle  are  in    1726-31. 

Gainsborough   and   Wilson    do  not  bring   out  their   work   until 

after    1755.      Thomas   Amory's  Jo/ui   Bimcle  is   in 

The  dates  of       1756-66,  and  Brown's  Keswick  Letter  comes  within 

development  of  , ,  •,       t^,        ^u     j      ■  ■       1       ••  r 

/    ^  the  same  period,      ihus  the  decisive  beirinninijs  of 

love  of  nature  ^  &  » 

in  different  art    ^^^^  ^^^^^  spirit  in   painting,   fiction,  and  travels  are 
forms  about  contemporary,  but   are   thirty  years  behind 

poetry  and  gardening.  Furthermore,  the  time 
between  the  decisive  beginnings  and  the  final  full  expression  is 
greatly  varied.  In  poetry  it  is  seventy-three  years,  in  gardening 
about  sixty-five,  in  painting  about  fifty,  in  fiction  not  over 
twenty-five,  and  in  travels  only  about  fifteen  years. 

In  spite  of  these  variations  in  date  there  seems  to  be  in  each 
art  the  same  general  order  of  development.     First  there  is  a  dim 

period    of    tentative,    unconscious,    or    apologetic 

General  order  of .     ,•     ^.  r  •  •.       n-i  •    •      1 

indications  or  a  new  spirit.  I  hen  some  orig^inal 
development  ^  ^ 

mind  seizes  upon  the  new  idea  and  gives  it  con- 
sistency and  at  least  partially  adequate  expression.  After  this 
there  follows  a  period  of  less  vigorous  but  widespread  and  varied 
efforts  to  find  a  statement  for  some  portions  of  the  new  thought. 
Then  a  master  mind  seems  to  feel  all  these  diffused,  struggling, 
half  expressed  conceptions  and  sums  them  up  in  the  final  perfect 
form.  In  the  poetry  of  nature  these  stages  are  clearly  marked  in 
the  work  before  Thomson,  in  Thomson,  in  the  period  from 
Thomson  to  Wordsworth,  and  in  Wordsworth.  In  painting  are 
Wilson  and  Gainsborough  on  the  one  hand  and  Turner  on  the 
other.  In  gardening,  travels,  and  fiction  we  find  the  periods 
marked  respectively  by  Kent  and  Repton,  Brown  and  Gilpin, 
Amory  and  Mrs.  Radcliffe.  In  these  three  art-forms',  especially 
in  the  last  two,  we  do  not  find  the  period  of  development  ending 
in  the  work  of  consummate  genius.  We  go  rather  from  a  meager 
statement  to  a  statement  that  is  full,  many-sided,  enthusiastic. 
The  progress  is  in  the  love  of  nature  rather  than  in  the  power  of 
adequate,  final  expression.  The  development  in  gardening  is 
more  in  the  nature  of  a  series  of  experiments  open  to  wide  dis- 
cussion, and  the  final  outcome  takes  the  form  given  it  by  the 
man  whose  study  of  past  failures  and  successes  has  led  him  to 


244         TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

the  suresc   comprehension    of   the  artistic  and  mechanical   laws 

involved.     A  glance  at  the  accompanying  table  will    make  the 

general  statement  clear,  the  main  point  being  that  in  at  least  five 

of  the  ways  in  which   men   express   their   ideas    it   is   possible  to 

trace  the  growth  of  a  complete  change  of  attitude  towards  nature. 

The  poets  who  helped  to  bring  about   this   change  have  already 

been  studied   in  detail,  but  some  further  general  statements  may 

not  be  out  of  place  here. 

/   /  ^      As  a  rule,  such  significant  poetry  of  nature  as  appeared  during 

the  transition  period  was  the  work  of  men  who  had  spent  much 

of  their  youth  in  the  country  or  in  country  villages  ; 

.^.     *     .   ,  ^^  it  was  practically  their  earliest  poetic  venture,  and 
sition  period  the  v  j  .      i 

I  significant  poe-  usually  the  work  of  their  youth  ;  and,  in  most  cases 

tryof  nature  where  there  was  an  extended  literary  career,  the 
the  early  work  poetry  of  nature  speedily  gave  way  to  work  of  a 
of  men  brought  didactic  or  dramatic  sort,  in  which  nature  played 
but  a  small  part.  To  any  such  general  statement 
there  would  be  of  course  important  exceptions.  Blake,  for 
instance,  was  a  town-bred  poet.  So  was  Collins,  and  his  Ode  to 
Evening  is  not  his  earliest  work.  Cowper  was  town-bred.  He 
was  old  when  he  began  to  write,  and  his  poetry  of  nature  is  his 
latest  rather  than  his  earliest  work.  But,  taken  as  a  whole,  the 
poetry  of  nature  during  the  eighteenth  century  bears  out  the 
statement  as  made.  It  is  well  illustrated  by  Armstrong,  who  was 
born  and  who  apparently  spent  his  youth  in  Castleton,  a  little 
village  in  the  wildest  part  of  the  mountainous  country  around 
the  Derbyshire  peaks,  wrote  his  Winter  before  he  was  fifteen,  went 
to  Edinburgh  and  then  to  London  to  study,  and  wrote  as  the  work 
of  his  mature  years  a  didactic  poem  on  the  Art  of  Preserving 
Health.  Or  by  Dyer,  who  was  brought  up  in  South  Wales,  wrote 
Grongar  Hill  a.x\d  The  Country  Walk  at  twenty-five,  went  up  to 
London,  and  wrote  as  his  mature  work  The  Ruins  of  Rome  and 
The  Fleece.  Or  by  Thomson,  who  lived  until  he  was  fifteen  in 
Southdean,  a  little  hamlet  at  the  foot  of  the  Cheviot  Hills,  the 
last  of  whose  Seasons  appeared  when  he  was  thirty  and  whose 
later  work  was  a  succession  of  dreary  tragedies.  Or  by  Aken- 
side,   who,    though    brought    up   in     Newcastle-on-Tyne,    made 


I^l|^^||gi    lllf^lMS'l 


H \ 1 1- 


-\ h 


H 1 1 h 


i 1 1 1 ( 1 1 1 1 1 i 1 ( 1 H 


I 


?    5 


-3    ^ 


i«   .>    't? 


^     ?    5 


GENERAL  SUMMARY  245 

frequent  visits  to  the  councr}-  during  his  youth,  wrote  The 
Pleasures  of  the  Itnagination  at  seventeen  during  one  of  these 
visits,  and  in  his  after  life  wrote  much  prose  and  poetry  in  which 
there  is  no  hint  of  the  early  enthusiasm.  Allan  Ramsay  lived  in 
a  secluded  spot  among  the  Pentland  Hills  until  he  was  fifteen, 
and  his  earliest  important  poem.  The  Gentle  Shepherd,  is  really  a 
memory  picture.  William  Pattison  spent  his  youth  at  Appleby, 
a  village  on  the  Eden,  in  Westmoreland,  where  he  wrote  his 
earliest  poems.  Mickle  spent  his  youth  at  Langholme  on  the 
Esk,  and  his  first  important  poem,  Pollio,  written  at  eighteen,  was 
in  memory  of  his  life  there.  Bruce  was  brought  up  at  Kinnes- 
wood,  a  village  on  Lochleven,  and  his  early  poetry  had  much 
to  do  with  the  scenery  about  that  place.  Beattie  spent  his  youth 
at  Lawrencekirk,  and  Fordoun  on  the  east  coast  of  Scotland, 
and  The  Minstrel,  his  first  important  poem,  is  a  record  of  his 
early  life.  It  would  certainly  be  a  mis-reading  of  these  facts  to 
infer  that  to  write  well  of  nature  the  poet  must  have  been 
brought  up  in  the  country.  Genius  has  the  rare  gift  of  seeing 
a  very  little  and  straightway  knowing  a  great  deal.  It  would  be 
equally  wrong  to  infer  that  poets  write  of  nature  when  they  are 
young  and  give  it  up  when  they  put  away  childish  things.  The 
import  of  these  facts  in  this  period  seems  to  be  merely  that 
there  was  a  genuine  and  widespread  love  of  nature  on  the  part  of 
many  isolated  poets,  who,  by  the  circumstances  of  their  lives,  knew 
nature  better  than  they  did  literature,  but  that  this  love  was  not 
sufficiently  robust  in  individual  cases  to  withstand  the  cramping 
influences  of  city  life  and  literary  coteries.  The  developing  tra- 
dition was  carried  on  not  so  much  by  the  persistent  influence  of 
a  few  as  by  the  constant  springing  up  of  the  same  spirit  in  many 
minds. 

In  a  transition  period  the  predominant  spirit  is  self-conscious, 
authoritative,  and   full  of  maxims  drawn  from   its  own  successes. 

The  new  spirit  comes  in,  as  it  were,  by  chance.     It 

Self-conscious     •      ,     ^    ,•    u*i     *u         ^       f  n  •     ^-      ^       ..u 

is  but  slightly  theoretic,  following  instinct  rather 
statements  ^      j  » 

than  well-defined  principles.  In  its  first  stages  it 
is  apologetic  rather  than  aggressive.  These  characteristics,  on 
the  whole,  mark  the  love  of  nature  in  the  early  eighteenth  cen- 


/ 


246         TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

tury  poetry.  There  are,  however,  occasional  indications  that  some 
poets,  at  least,  not  only  wrote  according  to  new  canons  of  taste, 
but  were  distinctly  conscious  of  their  revolt  from  the  old.  So 
early  as  1709  Ambrose  Philips  in  the  Preface  to  his  Pastorals 
justified  his  choice  of  country  themes  by  pointing  out  the  pleas- 
ing effect  of  natural  scenes  on  the  mind.  John  Gay's  enuncia- 
tion of  a  creed,  though  meant  as  a  satire,  was  so  just  a  condemna- 
tion of  existing  poetic  conventions,  and  so  apt  a  prophecy  of 
one  phase  of  the  new  spirit  that  it  really  deserves  to  rank  among 
revolutionary  statements  of  theory.  Allan  Ramsay's  Preface  to 
The  Evergreens  is  equally  emphatic  in  its  scorn  of  classical  limi- 
tations, and  it  was  meant  in  downright  earnest.  The  thought  of 
the  Preface  finds  expression  several  times  in  his  poems  as  well. 
Dyer  gives  utterance  to  a  similar  scorn  of  Parnassus  in  The 
Country  Walk.  Shenstone,  in  his  Prefatory  Essay  on  Elegy, 
shows  a  timid  but  perfectly  clear  recognition  of  the  fact  that  he 
is  breaking  away  from  poetical  canons.  Mason  in  the  Preface 
to  Elfrida  says  that  he  has  introduced  descriptions  with  a  pur- 
pose of  rendering  the  drama  more  pleasing.  Whitehead's  Enthu- 
siast with  its  elaborate  statement  of  both  sides  of  the  case  in  man 
versus  nature  is  an  important  indication  of  the  clearness  with 
which  the  points  of  the  controversy  were  at  that  time  recognized. 

/  The  strongest  and  most  detailed  statement  of  a  creed  came  about 

four  years  later  in  Joseph  Warton's  Essay  on  Pope  (1756).     Noth- 

^  ing  else  so  clear,  direct,  and  full  appeared  before  the  Prefaces    of 

V  Wordsworth.  After  Warton  it  is  not  so  necessary  to  indicate  all 
self-conscious  statements.  It  will  suffice  briefly  to  indicate 
Langhorne's  statement  of  his  purpose  in  writing.  Goldsmith's 
vigorous  attacks  on  falseness  and  affectation  in  poetry,  Beattie's 
Wordsworthian  Preface  to  The  Mi/istrel,  John  Scott's  criticism  on 
existing  poetry  and  his  statement  of  his  own  aim  in  the  Preface 
•^  to   his  Amoibcean  Eclogues,  Crabbe's  expressed  determination  to 

treat  of  nature  as  it  really  is,  Cowper's  pleasure  in  the  fact  that 
his  knowledge  and  inspiration  come  straight  from  nature  and  his 
y  persistent  reiteration  of  his  belief  in  the  superiority  of  the  country 

over  the  city,  and  finally  Burns's  many  critical  remarks  on  the 
essential  qualities  of  descriptive  poetry. 


GENERAL  SUMMARY  247 

The  characteristics  of  the  poetry  of  nature  that   was   growing 

up  during  the  eighteenth  century  have  been  already  indicated  in 

one  way  and  another,  but  it    seems  necessary  here 
Wordsworth       .  ,  ,  .  ,  ,^, 

the  best  reore-    ^o  gather   them  up  into  general  statements.      The 

sentativeof  the^^si^st  and  clearest  way  will  be  to  make  a  some- 
new  feeling  what  detailed  summary  of  such  traits  of  this  poetry 
towards  a.s  seem  to  foreshadow  the  later  treatment  of  nature, 

nature  especially  as    exemplified    in  Wordsworth.     In   the  ■ 

comparison  I  keep  mainly  to  Wordsworth  both  for  the  sake  of 
simplicity,  and  because,  though  in  romantic  periods  each  poet 
works  out  his  own  salvation  along  original  and  self-determined 
lines,  yet  Wordsworth  more  nearly  than  any  other  poet  expresses 
the  variety  and  complexity  of  interest  in  the  new  feeling  towards 
nature. 

Wordsworth  said  that  a  part  of  his  endowment  as  a   poet  was 
a  peculiar  openness  to  sense   impressions,  and   that  this  endow- 
ment was  cultivated  by  his  environment   in   youth 
Variety  and 
extent  of  until  the  real  facts  of  nature  were  reported   to  him 

knowledge  of  with  fullness  and  accuracy.  In  his  wholesale  con- 
nature  during  demnation  of  the  period  between  Paradise  Lost  and 
the  transition  The  Seasons  the  chief  count  in  the  indictment  is  the 
^  absence  of  new  images  drawn  from  nature.     Full, 

accurate,  first-hand  knowledge  of  nature  is  then  with  Words- 
worth a  sine  qua  nan,  a  basis  .on  which  interpretation  must 
rest.  During  the  eighteenth  century  no  one  man  had  Words- 
worth's inevitable  ear  or  practiced  eye,  but  the  whole 
impression  made  is  that  men  were  at  last  out  of  doors,  looking 
and  listening  for  themselves.  Each  man  sees  many  facts  not 
before  noted,  and  collectively  the  poetry  of  the  period  presents  a 
great  body  of  natural  phenomena  of  all  sorts.  Poets,  artists, 
travelers,  writers  of  fiction,  unite  to  swell  the  stock  of  facts  about 
the  external  world.  Dorothy  Wordsworth's  yi'Z/;r/«a/i'  show  with 
what  delight  she  and  her  brother  dwelt  upon  the  baldest  state- 
ment of  the  actual  facts  of  nature.  Gray  in  his  Letters,  John 
Scott  in  his  Eclogues,  show  this  same  pleasure  in  simply  cata- 
loguing the  lovely  facts  of  the  outdoor  world.  Lady  Winch  elsea. 
Gay,  Thomson,  Dyer,  Cowper,  Burns,  all  the  landscape    painters 


248         TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

from  Wilson  to   Girtin,  Mrs.    Smith   and    Mrs.  Radcliffe,   but  are 

leaders  of  the  many  who  were  striving  to    make    report    of    what 

they  found    in   waters    and    skies,  in  field,  mountain,  and    plain. 

The  wide  range  of  these  facts  is  astonishing.     The  knowledge  of 

the  poet  is  no  longer  confined  to  parks  and  gardens,  to  the  mild 

and  lovely  aspects  of  nature.     His  aroused   curiosity  pushes  him 

out  into  new  realms  of  inquiry.    All  kinds  of  nature,  animate  and 

inanimate,   wild   and  tame,    remote  and   close   at    hand,   attract 

interested  attention. 

The  mere  mass  and  variety  of  this  accumulated  knowledge  is 

sufficiently  significant  in  its  bearing  on  the  development  of  a  new 

taste  for    nature,  but    a    further   general    question 

,  -.  .  arises  as  to  the  accuracy  and  delicacy  of  the  obser- 

delicacy  or  ^  ■' 

observation  vation.     There  certainly  was  none  of  the  scientific 

spirit  that  would  feel  the  charm  of  bare  exactness, 
and  there  was  hardly  any  of  Wordsworth's  feeling  that  to  misrep- 
resent a  fact  of  nature  would  be  sacrilege.  Facts  were,  indeed, 
often  noted  in  a  loose,  careless  way,  as  if  of  slight  importance.  But 
taken  as  a  whole  the  observation  bears  the  mark  of  the  eye  on 
the  object.  From  Lady  Winchelsea  to  Bowles  every  poet  who  has 
been  esteemed  noteworthy  in  the  study  of  nature  gives  the 
impression  that  he  speaks  from  personal  knowledge,  and  no 
poetry  can  make  that  impression  unless  it  is  in  its  main  lines  true. 
Delicacy  of  observation  is  another  matter. 

What  the  eighteenth  century  poets  did  was  to  give  truthful 
expression  to  very  many  natural  facts  of  a  kind  fairly  obvious  to  an 
age  well  versed  in  the  lore  of  field  and  wood;  but  new  to  an 
age  just  emerged  from  the  gates  of  a  park.  It  is  observation  of 
this  abundant,  truthful,  obvious  sort  that  we  find  in  Ambrose 
Philips,  Gay,  Ramsay,  Shenstone,  John  Scott,  and  largely  this 
even  in  Thomson.  The  commonest  facts  of  nature,  the  blue  sky> 
wild  flowers  on  a  rocky  ledge,  rough  little  streams,  were  a  wonder 
and  a  delight.  Discrimination  comes  after  general  and  obvious 
facts  have  been  accepted  and  assimilated.  It  is  inevitable, 
even  setting  aside  their  different  temperaments,  that  Cowper 
should  have  more  of  it  than  Thomson.  The  strange  thing  is  that 
in  the  early  stages  of   the  poetry   of   nature  we  should  find    any 


GENERAL  SUMMARY  249 

observation  so  close  and  delicate  as  that  in  the  study  of  night  by 
Lady  Winchelsea,  of  burns  and  mountain  pools  by  Allan  Rani- 
sav,  of  winter  skies  and  ice  burdened  streams  by  Armstrong  ;  or 
as  that  in  Thomson's  sunset  after  rain,  Dyer's  wide  views  and 
homely  bits  of  country  life,  Collins's  evening,  Gray's  sky-lark  and 
song-thrush,  Thomas  Warton's  opening  spring,  Logan's  cuckoo, 
and  Scott's  trees. 

The  fullness  and  accuracy  of  the  eighteenth  century  study  of 
nature  may  be  further  seen  by  a  brief  analysis  of  the  sense  impres- 
sions most  frequently  noted. 

Wordsworth  is  said  to  have  been  physically  deficient  in  the 
sense  of  smell,  hence  the  noticeable  absence  of  odors  in  his  poems 
may  be  accounted  for.  But  it  is  doubtless  true  of 
all  poetry  that  fragrances  are  more  scantily  recorded 
than  are  other  facts,  and  there  is  seldom  much  closeness  of  obser- 
vation so  as  to  discriminate  between  various  sorts  of  sweet  odors. 
For  this  reason  such  slight  study  of  odors  as  we  find  in  the  tran- 
sition poetrv  is  the  more  to  be  dwelt  upon.  There  are  certainly 
not  infrequent  observations  showing  close  knowledge.  J.  Philips 
notes  the  faint  sweetness  of  cowslips;  Relph  speaks  of  the  odor 
of  the  "fresh  prumrose  on  the  furst  of  May;"  Dyer  and  Shenstone 
of  the  fragrance  of  brakes;  Dyer  of  sweet-smelling  honeysuckles; 
Shenstone,  Thomas  Warton,  and  Cowper  of  the  fragrant  wood- 
bine; J.  Philips  and  Mickle  of  scented  orchards  ;  Cowper  calls 
attention  to  the  odor  of  limes  and  the  fresh  smell  of  turf;  Lady 
Winchelsea  speaks  of  the  "  aromatic  pain  "  from  the  odor  of  a 
jonquil,  the  "  potent  fragrance"  of  which  is  recognized  also  by 
Thomson.  Two  odors  frequently  mentioned  are  of  "  the  perfum- 
ing flowery  bean  "  celebrated  first  by  John  Philips,  then  by  Gay, 
Thomson,  Savage,  Shenstone,  and  Joseph  Warton;  and  the  frag- 
rance of  hay  noted  by  Thomson,  Gay,  Ramsay,  Savage,  Potter, 
Relph,  Thomas  Warton,  and  Mickle.  When  homely,  unusual 
odors,  like  that  of  the  bean,  are  noticed  there  is  often  exceptional 
vividness  of  statement.  What  took  rank  in  the  poet's  mind  as 
his  own  discovery  brought  out  a  natural  freshness  of  phrase. 
One  other  fact  frequently  noted  is  that  odors  are  strongest  at 
morning  or  evening  or  after   a  rain.     These  specific  references 


250  TKEA  TMENT  OF  NA  TURK  IN  ENGLISH  FOE  TR  V 

are  of  real  importance  in  showing  new  powers  of  perception,  but 

it  must  be  admitted  that  in  general  the  use  of  odors  was  of  the 

conventional    sort,    referring    rather    vaguely    to    sweet    breezes 

blowing  over  flowery  fields. 

The  sensitiveness  to  sound  so  often  remarked  in  Wordsworth's 

poems  is  a  characteristic  of  the  poetry  of  nature  throughout  the 

century  before  Wordsworth.     The  music  of  nature 

was  a  source  of  widespread  delio^ht.  The  "pleasant 
Sounds  ^  ,,  .  .  . 

noise  of  waters,     for  instance,  receives  some  notice 

from  nearly  every  poet  in  the  list,  while  in  travels 
and  fiction  some  of  the  most  effective  passages  are  on  the  sounds 
of  rapid  streams  and  waterfalls.  In  poetry  the  old  words  "warb- 
ling," "tinkling,"  and  "murmuring,"  are  still  much  used,  but 
Ramsay's  rill  that  "  makes  a  singm  din,"  Thomson's  roused-up 
river  that  "  thunders  "  through  the  rocks,  Mallet's  river  with  its 
"  sounding  sweep,"  Collins's  "  brawling   springs,"  and  Cowper's 

"  chiming  rills  "  are  a  few  of  the  phrases  that  mark 
Sounds  from      a  more  individual  and   personal  way  of  listening 
water  One  of  Wordsworth's  often  quoted  lines  on  sound 

has  to  do  with  the  greater  distinctness  of  the  song 
of  mountain  streams  by  night.  Mr.  Heard  gives  this  passage  as 
an  instance  of  Wordsworth's  peculiarly  close  observation.  But 
the  clearness  with  which  falling  or  running  water  is  heard  at  night 
had  been  noted  at  least  six  times  in  the  literature  before  Words- 
worth. Lady  Winchelsea  mentioned  it  in  her  Revery.  Beattie 
speaks  of  waterfalls  heard  from  afar  amid  the  lonely  night,  and 
again  of  the  quiet  evening  when  naught  but  the  torrent  is  heard 
on  the  hill.  The  lines  in  John  Brown's  Rhapsody  have  already 
been  quoted,  as  also  his  Letter  in  which  he  notes  the  variety  of 
sounds  from  distant  waterfalls  as  one  of  the  attractions  of  a  walk 
at  night.  And  Gray  also  speaks  of  the  murmur  of  many  water- 
falls not  audible  in  the  day  time.  Several  other  authors  as  Dyer 
and  Mallet  have  practically  the  same  idea  when  they  mention  the 
unusual  clearness  of  the  sound  of  falling  water  in  a  breathless 
noon,  or  in  the  depths  of  a  silent"  forest. 

The  sounds  made  by  winds  are  also  often  and  particularly 
noted.     They  sigh  through  reeds,  they  make  a  remote  and  hollow 


GENERAL  SUMMARY  251 

noise   in   "  wintery   pines,"  they   murmur   through    the    poplars, 
they  rustle  lightly  over  "  deep  embattled  ears  of  corn,"  they  join 

in  concert  with  woods  and  waters,  or  they  sweep 
Sounds  from  in  mighty  harmonies  through  ancient  forests, 
winds  The  whispering  breezes,   and   dying  gales  of  the 

classical  poetry  do  not  often  occur.  Brown  in  his 
Letter  shows  how  deeply  he  was  impressed  by  the  roaring  of  the 
winds  through  the  mountains,  and  the  one  passage  in  which  Dr. 
Johnson  showed  any  appreciation  of  wild  nature  is  a  description 
of  the  combined  sounds  of  streams  and  wind  on  a  stormy  night 
in  Scotland.  A  characteristic  passage  is  Thomson's  fine  descrip- 
tion of  thunder  among  the  mountains.  Wordsworth,  from  the 
peculiar  delicacy  of  his  perceptions  and  perhaps  from  his  con- 
templative nature,  was  deeply  sensitive  to  the  silences  in  the  world 
about  him.  There  is  some  though  but  little  indication  of  a 
similar  pleasure  in  preceding  poetry.  One  of  the  best  passages 
is  Thomson's  description  of  the  boding  silence  before  a  storm. 
This  has,  however,  much  less  of  the  real  Wordsworthian  spirit 
than  has  Brown's  conception  of  the  silence  that  spoke  from  the 
starry  vault,  the  shadowy  cliffs,  the  motionless  goves,  and  the 
faint  mirror  of  the  placid  lake. 

Of  sounds  from  animate  nature  the  emphasis  is  of  course  on 
birds.     But  the  feathered  choir  of  the  classical  period  has  been 

resolved  into  distinct  species,  each  with  a  voice  of 
Songs  of  its  own.     The   nightingale  is   not  supplanted  but 

birds  she  is  no  longer  a  monopolist  in  the  realms  of  the 

muses.  In  this  transition  poetry  the  cuckoo  takes 
an  interesting  place.  Wordsworth's  address  to  the  bird  as  "  the 
darling  of  the  spring"  gives  the  association  of  ideas  found  in 
most  of  the  early  poems.  The  cuckoo  is  the  harbinger  of  spring. 
Armstrong  and  A.  Philips  have  the  loud  note  of  the  cuckoo  as 
one  of  the  first  hints  of  the  opening  year,  and  Thomson's  sym- 
phony of  spring  is  introduced  by  "  the  first  note  the  hollow 
cuckoo  sings."  Mendez  says  it  is  "  the  cuckoo  that  announceth 
spring,"  and  Gray  speaks  of  the  cuckoo's  note  as  part  of  "  the 
untaught  harmony  of  spring."  The  peculiarity  of  the  cuckoo's 
note  is   also  often   mentioned.     Other  birds   have  many  notes. 


2  52         TREA  TMENT  OF  NA  TURE  IN  ENGLISH  POE  TR  Y 

says  John  Cunningham,  "  the  cuckoo  has  but  two."  Logan,  as 
Wordsworth  after  him,  records  the  fact  that  the  bird  is  usually 
unseen,  and  both  speak  of  the  schoolboy's  surprise  as  the  strange 
cry  falls  on  his  ear.  The  lark,  the  nightingale,  and  the  linnet 
are  frequently  mentioned,  but  usually  in  terms  somewhat  conven- 
tional. They  had  been  in  poetry  so  long  that  a  distinct  effort 
would  have  been  needed  to  think  of  them  under  new  phrases. 
To  be  released  from  the  captivity  of  a  stock  diction  and  conven- 
tional sentiment  they  waited  for  Shelley  and  Keats  and  Words- 
worth. It  is  in  observations  on  birds  not  counted  poetical 
property  that  we  find  fresh  and  exact  expression.  A  mark  of  the 
new  spirit  is  the  pleasure  in  such  sounds  as  the  call  of  the  curlew, 
the  boom  of  the  bittern,  the  chattering  of  magpies,  the  caw  of 
rooks,  the  piping  of  quails,  the  scream  of  jays,  the  clang  of  sea- 
mews,  the  shrill  clamor  of  cranes,  the  shriek  of  the  gull,  the 
whistle  of  plovers,  the  whir  of  the  partridge.  To  hear  such 
sounds  the  poet  must  wander  over  moors,  by  sedgy  lakes,  along 
rough  shores,  far  enough  from  trim  parks.  To  bring  such  sounds 
into  poetry  marked  a  great  revolution  in  taste  from  the  days  of 
the  lorn  nightingale  and  the  plaintive  turtle.  As  a  whole  we  may 
say  that  the  treatment  of  sound  in  eighteenth  century  poetry  is 
abundant,  accurate,  and  often  very  effective. 

The  process  of  passing   from   general  to  specific   statements 
as  a  result  of  increased  knowledge  shows  itself  again  in  the  use 
of    color.     The    universal    paint    of     the    classical 
school    has    been    resolved   into  some  of  its   con- 
"^  stituent  elements.     These  are  not  many,  however, 

and  there  is  not  much  nice  discrimination  into 
shades  and  tints.  The  colors  most  often  observed  are  green, 
blue,  yellow  or  gold,  purple,  red  or  crimson,  and  brown,  the 
order  given  being  the  order  of  their  frequency.  Purple  is  used 
less  frequently  than  in  the  classical  poetry  and  usually  has  some 
real  artistic  significance.  Yellow,  a  comparatively  new  word,  is 
used  often  of  harvests,  of  trees  in  autumn,  of  moonlight,  and  of 
various  sunlight  effects.  Dyer  gave  early  prominence  to  the 
word  as  an  epithet  applied  to  nature.  Brown  is  applied  in  some- 
what the  conventional  manner  to  streams  and  shadows.    Thomson, 


GENERAL  SUMMARY  253 

Dyer,  Savage,  and  Cowper  made  the  most  effective  use  of  color, 
and  it  is  important  to  observe  that  their  advance  consisted  not 
so  much  in  seeing  many  more  colors  than  had  been  seen  before, 
as  in  discovering  color  in  many  more  objects  than  formerly. 
They  did  not  merely  see  that  "  all  above  is  blue  and  all  below  is 
green."  They  saw  the  blue  heavens,  but  they  saw,  too,  the  blue 
of  "  sky  dyed  plumbs,"  of  mists,  of  distant  hills,  of  streams  and 
bays,  of  ice-films,  of  the  halcyon's  wing,  of  curling  smoke,  of  the 
lightning  flash.  The  endive,  the  lavender,  the  lilac,  the  violet, 
the  harebell,  the  heath-flower,  are  singled  out  as  blue.  And  Dyer 
speaks  of  the  blue  color  of  the  poplars,  and  Dalton  of  blue  slate 
roofs.  Not  merely  the  general  green  of  a  summer  landscape  is 
commented  upon,  but  there  are  closer  observations  concerning 
the  varying  shades  of  green  as  the  trees  are  massed  together. 
The  russet  tints  brought  out  in  green  tree  tops  at  sunset,  the 
funereal  green  of  yews,  the  yellow-green  in  a  sunset  sky,  the 
yellow  tinge  in  green  grass  almost  ready  for  the  scythe,  the  glossy 
green  of  the  holly,  the  deep  green  of  box,  the  contrasting  green 
of  elm,  oak,  and  maple,  are  some  typical  observations. 

The  use  of  color,  however,  seems,  on  the  whole,  in  spite  of  its 
abundance  and  picturesqueness,  hardly  so  varied  and  individual 
as  the  use  of  sound. 

A  division  into  colors  and  sounds  leaves  many  sorts  of  obser- 
vation unnoted,  and  frequently  these  are  of  great  importance  as 
indicating  close  knowledge;  but  they  have  been  so  often  com- 
mented upon  in  the  study  from  author  to  author  that  even  a 
suggestive  recapitulation  is  hardly  needed  here.  Enough  has 
been  called  to  mind  to  show  that  there  was  much  knowledge  of 
the  external  world,  and  that  nmch  of  this  knowledge  was  reported 
in  words  so  direct  and  truthful  that  they  must  have  come  from 
personal  experience. 

In  the  classical  period  we  have  seen  that  only  the  milder 
forms  of  nature  were  cared  for.  Wordsworth  was,  on  the  other 
hand,  essentially  the  poet  of  mountains,  lakes,  and  streams.  It 
will  be  of  interest  to  note  the  attitude  of  the  transition  poetry 
toward  the  various  kinds  of  nature.  And  first  we  may  sum  up 
the  evidences  of  mountain  enthusiasm. 


2  54  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

In    the   first   fifty  years    of    the   century   we    have    only    the 
expressions   of    pleasure   in   climbing   mountains   or    hills   by  J. 

Philips,   Gay,  and    Dyer ;    the    various  descriptive 
Mountains  references   in    Ramsay   and   in    Mallet;   and    Paul 

Sandby's  sketches  in  the  Highlands.     Ramsay  and 
Mallet  show  a  consciousness  of  mountains,  and  evidently  regard 
them  as  noticeable  and   picturesque  elements    of   a    scene,  and 
Dyer  is  of  distinct  importance  because  of  his  lingering  pleasure 
in  the  beautiful  views  opening  up  before  him  as   he  climbs  the 
mountain,  and  especially  because  of  his  poetic  comprehension  of 
mountain  solitudes.     But  it  is  during  the  next  twent3^-five  years 
that  we  find  the  most  adequate  eighteenth  century  treatment  of 
mountains.     During  this  period  Brown,  Pennant,  Young,  Gray, 
and   Gilpin  visited  Scotland,  Wales  and  the  English  Lakes,  and 
wrote  of  mountains  with  an  enthusiasm  hardly   equaled  in  the 
succeeding  century.     In  fiction  were   Amory's  eulogy  of  West- 
moreland,  and   his    exaggerated   pictures    of    Cumberland,    and 
Smollett's   description   of  the   country  round   Loch   Leven.     In 
painting,    Dalton,    Sandby,    Butts,    and    Wright    were    studying 
mountain  scenery  in  northern  England,  Wales,  and  Ireland.     In 
poetry  we  have   Coventry's   address   to   Vaughan    on    mountain 
climbing;    Dalton's    apostrophe  to  Skiddaw;  Brown's   rhapsody 
on   the  mountains  and   lakes   of   Westmoreland;    the   mountain 
scenery   in    Gray's   Bard  and   the  poems  .  of   Ossian;  the  many 
descriptive  references  in  Dyer's  Fleece,  Jago's  Edge  Hill,  Mickle's 
Almada  Hill  and  May  Day,  and  Scott's  Amzvell;  and  Beattie's 
study  of  the  influence  of  mountains  on  a  poetic  mind.     During 
the   last  twenty-five  years  of  the  century  there   is,  in   poetry,  a 
curious  apparent    cessation    of    mountain    interest.       The    most 
highly  poetic  minds,  Blake,  Cowper,  and  Burns,  have  none  of  it. 
Crabbe  does  not  touch  upon    mountains.     Lesser  poets,  except 
Bowles  at  the  very  end  of  the  century,  are  equally  silent.    This  is 
not,  however,  true  of  fiction,  travels,  and  painting.     During  this 
period  Fox  is  studying  mountain  scenery  in  Russia;   Farrington, 
Dayes,    Crome,    Havell,    and    Girtin    are   in    the    Lake    District; 
Havell  and  Girtin  also  travel   in  Wales  for  purposes   of   study; 
and  Barret  is  in  Scotland.     Mountain  scenery  is  a  large  element 


GENERAL  SUMMARY  255 

in  Mrs.  Radcliffe's  Romances.  And  there  is  a  band  of  travelers 
going  over  the  country  already  described.  Thus  the  interest  in 
mountains,  practically  dropped  in  poetry,  was  carried  on  in 
romances,  accounts  of  travel,  and  pictures,  until  in  the  next 
century  it  reached  its  highest  expression  in  Wordsworth. 

Many  lovers  of  nature  and  of  poetry  have  commented  with 
surprise  on  the  slow  development  of  the  poetic  appreciation   of 
mountains.     It  is,  perhaps,  even  more  strange  that 
The  ocean  English  poetry  should  have  been  still  slower  in  its 

discovery  of  the  ocean.  It  is  as  if  English  poets 
from  Dryden  to  Byron  had  all  lived  inland.  Even  in  Words- 
worth, in  spite  of  some  wonderful  lines,  there  is  no  treatment  of 
the  ocean  at  all  comparable  to  his  study  of  mountains.  In  the 
classical  age  the  ocean  was  a  dreary  waste.  In  the  transition 
poetry  we  do  not  find  much  more  knowledge  or  appreciation. 
The  one  quality  of  the  ocean  that  receives  anything  like  adequate 
expression  is  its  boundlessness.  Characteristic  lines  are  by  John 
G.  Cooper. 

"  In  unconfined  perspective  send  thy  gaze 

Disdaining-  limit  o'er  the  green  expanse 

Of  ocean." 

Armstrong  says  that  the  "floating  wilderness" 

"  Scorns  our  miles  and  calls  Geography 
A  shallow  prier." 

Mickle  looks  upon  the  awful  solitude  of  ocean  and  his  imagi- 
nation is  stirred  by 

"  the  last  dim  wave  in  boundless  space 
Involved  and  lost." 

These  are  the  best  lines  I  have  found.  The  chief  expressions 
of  pleasure  in  the  ocean  are  Gay's  mild  delight  in  a  sunset  across 
the  sea,  and  subsequent  moonlight  effects,  and  Beattie's  pleasing 
dread  as  he  seeks  the  shore  to  listen  to  the  wide-weltering  waves. 
We  find  in  Cowper's  letters  a  more  appreciative  passage  on  the 
ocean  than  occurs  in  any  of  the  poetry.  The  most  sincere  ocean 
enthusiasm  is  in  Mrs.  Radcliffe's  Romances.  Travelers,  even 
those  who  went  along  the  coast  of  Wales  and  among  the  Scottish 


256  TREA TMENT  OF  NA Tl 'RE  IN  ENGLISH  POE IRY 

Islands  or  to  the  Isle  of  Wight,  say  little  of  the  sea.  The  ocean 
was,  in  fact,  much  such  a  burden  as  Sterne's  plain.  When  the 
poet  had  once  said  that  it  was  big  and  awful  his  stock  of  impres- 
sions was  exhausted.  In  painting,  the  ocean  was  not  entirely 
ignored,  but  in  this  province,  too,  there  was  meagerness  of  con- 
ception and  expression.  The  ocean  waited  for  Turner  and 
Byron  and  Shelley. 

One  of  the  interesting  characteristics  of  the  love  of  nature  in 
the  eighteenth  century  is  a  delight  in  wide  views.     What  had  in 

the  classical  period  "tired  the  travelling  eve,"  with 
Wide  views         the  dawning  of  the  new  spirit  gave  satisfaction.     It 

was  in  accord  with  the  mental  revolt  against  close 
boundaries  of  any  sort.  From  the  day  when  John  Philips 
ventured  to  express  some  pleasure  in  the  view  from  a  hill,  and 
Gay  climbed  Cotton  Hill  to  raise  his  mind  nearer  heaven,  and 
Dyer  spent  days  in  studying  with  an  artist's  eye  the  colors  and 
forms  of  the  view  from  Grongar  Hill,  to  the  time  when  Beattie 
^  eagerly  climbed  the  rugged  steeps  of  Scottish  mountains  so  that 

he  might  see  the  morning  mists  rolling  and  tumbling  over  the 
rough  hills  beneath  him,  do  we  find  this  pronounced  delight  in 
wide  views.  Even  poets  who  show  no  great  love  for  mountains, 
as  Thomson,  Mallet,  Collins,  the  Wartons,  Langhorne,  Mickle, 
and  John  Scott,  and  even  poets  of  confessedly  tame  scenery  as 
Cowper,  love  "green  heights"  and  extended  prospects.  To  the 
expression  of  this  feeling  Amory  and  Mrs.  Radcliffe,  Brown, 
Young,  and  Pennant  make  large  contributions.  This  feeling 
\  shows  itself  also  in  gardening.  The  cutting  down  of  tall  hedges, 
the  opening  up  of  vistas,  were  a  result  of  the  change  of  taste  and 
a  contribution  to  it.  With  this  development  of  the  new  spirit  the 
artists,  and  Gilpin,  working  as  he  did  from  the  artist's  point  of  view, 
had  little  to  do.  Wide  views  seemed  to  be  outside  their  province. 
We  have  seen  that  during  the  classical  poetry  the  skies  in 
favor  were  cloudless  and  that  of  all  sky  phenomena  the  rainbow 

excited  most  attention.     In  the   transition  poetry 
The  sky  we   find    nmch   of  this   love   of   fair  summer    skies 

and    expressed    sometimes    with   a    new    freshness 
as    when    Dyer    wishes    nothing   above   his  head  but   "the  roof 


=^CALIFOi 


GENERAL  SUMMARY 


257 


on  which  the  gods  do  tread,"  or  when  Ramsay  looks  with  joy 
upon  "the  lift's  unclouded  blue,"  or  when  the  clear  gladness  of 
heaven  shines  down  from  the  lovely  skies  of  Blake.  But  on  the 
whole,  references  to  the  serene  dav-time  sky  are  conventional. 
It  is  another  illustration  of  the  fact  that  such  aspects  of  nature 
as  were  already  known  and  had  come  to  be  spoken  of  after  a  set 
fashion  were  slow  to  be  emancipated  into  a  new  phraseology. 
Better  work  is  done  in  describing  what  Coleridge  calls  the 
"goings-on  "  of  the  sky.  Thomson  knew  the  sky  in  all  its  phases. 
Parnell  describes  well  the  airy  tumult  of  clouds  after  a  storm. 
Mallet  has  one  or  two  rather  effective  studies  of  a  stormy  sky. 
One  of  Beattie's  best  descriptions  is  of  a  shifting  cloudy  sky' 
on  a  windy  autumn  day,  and  he  has  other  effective  cloud  studies. 
But  taken  in  the  mass  the  material  is  scanty  and  not  of  great 
value.  It  was  Wordsworth  and  Shelley  who  first  gave  adequate 
expression  to  the  mysterious  and  varied  charm  of  the  day-time 
sky. 

The  love  of  the  night  sky  and  of  night  itself  is  first  found  in 
Lady  Winchelsea,  and  for  close  observation  and  delicate  feeling 
there  is  nothing  better  throughout  the  century. 
There  is,  however,  much  use  of  night,  moonlight, 
and  stars  in  a  new  and  appreciative  fashion.  In 
Gay's  Dione  there  are  several  attractive  little  moon- 
light pictures.  Parnell  was  impressed  by  the  depth,  the  serenity 
and  the  silence  of  a  starry  sky  on  a  clear  night.  Coventry  observes 
how  fast  the  moon  travels  through  light  clouds  as  if  bent  on  a 
journey,  while  in  clear  w-eather  she  sits  steady  empress  of  the 
skies.  Joseph  Warton  notes  the  shining  of  hills  and  streams 
under  the  light  of  a  full  moon.  Mickle  has  some  beautiful  lines 
on  both  moon  and  stars  as  they  rise  from  behind  certain  favorite 
hills.  He  walks  much  at  night  and  loves  to  watch  the  trembling 
line  of  light  from  the  moon  as  it  shines  across  the  lake,  or  the 
soft  effect  of  the  yellow  moonlight  sleeping  on  the  hills.  Beattie 
stays  out  all  night  to  watch  the  aspects  of  the  sky  till  the  dawn  of 
day.  Morning  and  evening  twilight  are  less  often  spoken  of. 
There  is  certainly  nothing  else  in  the  century  to  compare  with 
Collins's  Evening.     Sunset  and  sunrise  are  often  describedj  but 


Night 


258         TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

nowhere  with  more  general   effectiveness  than   in   Thomson,  or 

with  more  minute  color  study  than  in  Savage. 

Closely  connected  with  the  knowledge  of  the  sky  is  the  new 

feeling  towards  storms.      In   the  classical  poetry  they  had  been 

ignored  or  used  as  similes  for  disaster.       But  one  of 

^^  the  first  evidences  of  a  new  spirit  was  in  the  appre- 

Storms  ^  ^      .         ^  •      T^         , 

'^^  ciative  description  of  winter  storms,  as   m   Riccal- 

toun,  Armstrong,  and  Thomson.  The  early  descrip- 
tions and  the  multiplicity  of  storms  in  Thomson  and  Mallet  give  at 
first  the  impression  that  this  element  held  a  larger  place  in  poetry 
than  it  really  did.  Ramsay  has  some  good  lines  on  winter  storms. 
There  is  an  admirable  stanza  in  Collins's  Ode  to  Liberty,  and 
another  in  Thomas  Warton's  Grave  of  King  Arthur.  In  Beattie's 
Minstrel,  and  in  several  of  Burns's  poems  there  are  expressions  of 
delight  in  the  fierce  play  of  the  elements,  but  that  exhausts  the 
list  of  notable  passages.  It  is  only  in  Beattie  that  we  find  any 
of  the  modern  sense  of  kinship  between  the  tumult  of  life  and 
nature's  fierce  conflicts,  and  the  imaginative  force  of  a  passage 
like  that  in  The  Excursion  where  the  Wanderer  longs  to  be  a 
spirit  and  so  mingle  with  primal  energies  in  their  mightiest  activ- 
ities, or  the  lyric  passion  of  a  cry  like  that  in  Shelley's  apostrophe 
to  the  West  Wind,  are  not  even  hinted  at. 

The  most  pronounced  change  came  with  reference  to  these 
grander,  wilder  aspects  of  nature.  We  have  still  to  note  the 
treatment  of  the  gentle  pleasant  things  of  nature  as  birds,  flowers, 
trees. 

There  was,  through  the  classical  period,  abundant  delight,  in 

a  general  way,  in  meadows   bursting   into   bloom,  and  in  bright 

flowers    in    the    garden.       The   use   of    the    words 

"  flowery,"  "  adorned,''  "  decked,"  "  enameled,"  etc., 
Flowers  ■' 

usually  had  reference  to  fields  of  flowers  thought  of 

in  a  vague,  pleasant  way.     The  changes  that  come 

during  the  transition   poetry  are  a  resolving  of   the  general  into 

the  specific,  a  concentration  of  attention  on   English  flowers,  and 

a  greatly  increased  knowledge  of   individual  flowers.      The  rose 

and  the  lily  often   give  place  to  homely  flowers  as  the  blossoms 

of  peas  and  beans,  the  bramble  rose,  butter  flowers,  clover,  heath- 


I 


GENERAL  SUMMARY  259 

bells,  crowfoot,  the  tangled  vetch,  the  mandrake,  the  thistle.  The 
increased  minuteness  of  observation  shows  itself  in  such  studies  of 
garden  flowers  as  we  find  in  Thomsonand  (^owper.  A  feeling  of 
personal  relationship  towards  flowers  finds  its  highest  and  sweet- 
est expression  in  Burns's  Daisy. 

In  the  classical  poetry  trees  in  general  are  an  important  part 

of  the  stock  in  trade.     The  new  feeling  shows  itself  in  a  growing 

tendency  to  think   of  trees   as   individuals.     In  a 

„  landscape  trees  are  mentioned  by  name.     The  thin 

Trees  ^  ■' 

leav'd  ash,  whispering  poplars,  the   glossy  rind'd 

beech,  venerable  oaks  tossing  giant  arms,  waving 
elms,  quivering  aspens,  murmuring  pines,  hoary  willows,  syca- 
mores green,  tawny,  or  scarlet,  according  to  the  season,  white- 
blossomed  hawthorn,  deep  green  hollies,  elders  with  silver 
blossoms,  stand  out  from  the  mass  and  are  known  for  their  own 
qualities.  Minute  observation  is  indicated  by  the  descriptive 
phrases  used.  The  color  of  the  trunk,  the  spread  of  the  branches, 
the  changing  hue  of  the  leaves,  the  kind  of  blossoms,  are  severally 
noted.  Two  special  studies  of  trees  are  by  Lady  Winchelsea  and 
Dr.  Dalton,  and  are  of  early  date.  Dyer  and  Cowper  give  the 
best  studies  of  trees  seen  in  a  mass,  and  yet  individually  noted. 
While  there  is  not  a  touch  of  the  deep  forest  in  this  poetry,  there 
are  many  lines  describing  woodland  effects.  Thomson,  Potter, 
and  Cowper  find  especial  pleasure  in  the  lovely  interplay  of  light 
and  shade  in  a  pathway  overhung  by  woven  branches.  The  brown 
shadows  and  the  softened  light  in  a  deeply  wooded  nook  are 
observed.  Gentle  streams  sing  happily  under  a  cooling  covert  of 
green  boughs.  The  quiet  of  the  woods  is  broken  only  by  the 
plash  of  waters,  the  rustle  of  boughs,  the  whisper  of  leaves,  the 
hum  of  insects,  the  song  of  birds,  sounds  from  distant  flocks  and 
herds,  or  the  stroke  of  the  woodman's  axe.  Trees  also  form  an 
important  part  of  every  general  landscape.  But  no  poet  has 
given  so  much  of  the  real  forest  feeling  as  Mrs.  Radcliffe.  Of 
travelers  Young  has  most  to  say  about  trees  but  his  observations 
are  largely  scientific  and  utilitarian.  On  the  whole  we  may  say 
that  trees  are  given  abundant  and  discriminating  attention,  but 
that   this   attention   seldom  penetrates  beyond  external,  artistic 


2  6o         TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

I  qualities.    Personal  friendship  for  trees  such  as  we  find  in  Lowell, 

for  instance,  has  hardly  yet  reached  expression. 

Birds  have  already  been  discussed  under  sound,  but  it  remains 
here  to  state  that  the  habits  of  birds,  their  manner  of  flight,  their 

nests,  the  trees  they  choose,  their  ways  of  protect- 
Birds  ing  their  young,  were  all  topics  on  which  much  was 

known.  Of  minor  poets,  the  best  who  knew  birds 
well,  are  Jago,  Potter,  and  Bruce.  Gray  adds  some  perfect 
touches.  Best  of  all  for  accurate  description  and  real  under- 
standing are  Thomson,  Cowper,  and  Burns.  The  prominent  place 
of  the  cuckoo  has  already  been  spoken  of.  The  red-breast  and 
the  thrush  with  "  speckly  breast  "  rank  not  far  behind  in  interest. 
The  red-breast  found  early  honor  in  Armstrong's  Winter,  and  then 
in  Thomson's,  and  is  one  of  the  pleasing  elements  in  Cowper's 
Winter  Walk.  On  the  whole,  birds  of  the  lakes  and  streams 
seem  to  be  better  known  than  birds  of  the  tree  and  copse. 

One  phase  of  the  literary  treatment  of  birds  is  a  recognition 
of  their  rights  as   free,  living   beings.     This  feeling,  not  towards 

birds   alone  but  towards  all  animals,  is  one  of  the 
1  Recognition  of    ^jaj-i^s  of  the  new   spirit.     There  is  even   in   Lady 

.      ,  Winchelsea's  Rcvery  z.  slis^ht  hint  of  the  conception 

'  of  animals  .^  ^  r 

that  animals  would  not  suffer  if  man  had  not  proved 
himself  a  tyrant,  and  Gay  carries  out  the  same  thought  in  one 
of  his  Fables.  Thomson's  protests  against  killing  animals  for 
food  are  the  first  strong  statements  of  the  new  feeling.  Shen- 
stone,  in  Rural  Elegance  and  The  Dying  Kid,  shows  some  sympa- 
thetic regard  for  animals.  Jago  and  Potter  and  Langhorne  pro- 
tested vigorously  against  cruelty  to  birds.  Beattie  had  the  strong- 
est possible  dislike  towards  so-called  English  sports.  The  feel- 
ing of  close  fellowship  and  almost  human  love  towards  animals, 
so  marked  in  Wordsworth  and  Coleridge,  did  not  find  expression 
in  the  transition  poetry  until  Burns  and  Cowper  gave  it  full 
statement. 

Throughout  the  poetry  of  the  eighteenth  century  we  have 
observed  a  turning  from  the  general  to  the  specific.  There  is 
likewise  a  similar  tendency  to  localization.  The  classical  poetry 
of  nature  belonged   to    no   special   spot,   hardly   to   any   special 


GENERAL  SUMMARY  261 

country.  The  poetry  of  Wordsworth  and  of  Walter  Scott  was, 
on  the  other  hand,  eminently  local.  They  celebrated  the  mount- 
ains and  islands  and  streams  of  the  region  they 
Localization  knew.  Wordsworth  complained  that  before  his  day 
no  one  had  sung  of  British  mountains.  It  is  inter- 
esting to  note  the  growth  of  this  passion  for  certain  spots  defi- 
nitely pointed  out  and  named,  certain  natural  scenes  known  and 
loved  as  a  person  might  be.  A  brief  survey  of  the  mountains 
and  streams  thus  celebrated  in  eighteenth  century  poetry  will 
serve  as  illustrative.  After  Dyer's  Grongar  Hill  come  other  moun- 
tains of  Wales.  The  hoary  heights  of  huge  Plynlymmon  ;  the 
wide,  aerial  side  of  Cader-ydris ;  the  craggy  summits  of  cold 
Snowdon,  king  of  mountains  ;  Clyder's  cloud  enveloped  head  ; 
Caer-caraduc  and  others  are  spoken  of  with  evident  pleasure  and 
not  a  little  artistic  perception.  In  Scotland  the  Hills  of  Chev- 
iot, the  Pentland  Hills,  the  mountains  in  the  Ossian  country,  and 
those  around  Lochleven,  are  chief.  In  England  we  have  the  scarry 
side  of  Braids,  Dafset's  ridgy  mountain,  Edge-Hill,  Almada  Hill, 
Derwent's  naked  peaks,  huge  Breaden,  blue-topp'd  Wrekin, 
giant  Skiddaw,  the  solemn  wall  of  Malvern,  the  Cambrian  Hills,  the 
Hills  of  Ilmington,  and  others.  The  spirit  of  localization  in  its 
application  to  mountains  does  not  often  go  beyond  calling  the 
mountain  by  its  own  name,  and  using  some  phrase  showing  that 
this  mountain  is  known  as  separate  from  the  general  mass.  In 
its  application  to  streams  the  feeling  is  more  detailed  in  expres- 
sion. -=Ramsay's  streams  and  pools  are  closely  localized.  Dyer 
celebrates  not  only  Towy's  flood,  but  the  Vaga,  the  Ryddal,  the 
Iftwith,  the  Clevedoc,  the  Lune,  and  especially  the  Usk.  Dr. 
Dalton  traces  the  course  of  the  Borrowdale  Beck  from  Lodore 
Falls  to  the  lake.  Langhorne  follows  the  track  of  the  Bela 
through  solitary  meads,  and  then  through  the  rough  realms  of 
Stainmore.  He  also  celebrates  his  joy  as  a  child  in  the  river 
Eden.  Smollett,  on  his  sick  bed,  writes  an  ode  to  Leven  Water. 
Bruce  sings  of  the  Po,  the  Queech,  the  Severn,  and  especially  of 
his  youthful  delight  in  the  Gairney.  Mickle  writes  of  the  Forth, 
the  Annan,  the  Ewes,  and  the  Wauchope,  but  dwells  with  most 
zest  on  his  early  love  of  the  Esk.     Of  peculiar  interest  is  Aken- 


262         TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

side's  apostrophe  to  the  Wansbeck.  Hamilton,  Langhorne  and 
Logan  wrote  of  the  Yarrow,  Cowper  of  the  Ouse,  Burns  of  the 
Ayr,  the  Doon,  the  Nith,  the  Afton,  the  Devon,  and  many  another 
Scotch  stream,  while  Bowles  wrote  of  the  Itchin,  the  Tweed,  the 
Cherwell,  and  the  Wansbeck.  A  map  might  be  made  on  which 
should  be  represented  only  the  mountains  and  streams  spoken  of 
with  some  particularity,  with  something  more  than  a  mere  men- 
tion, in  English  poetry  between  1650  and  1720,  and  a  similar 
map  of  the  period  from  1720  to  1795.  A  comparison  of  the 
two  would  be  an  interesting  commentary  on  the  growth  of  knowl- 
edge and  interest  in  British  scenes. 

All  that  has  been  so  far  presented  goes   to  show  that   in  the 
antithesis    between    town    and    country    the    balance    of  favor 
swung  round    during  the    eighteenth    century    to 
Preference  for     ^j^g  country.     Usually  the  preference   is    implicit, 
^  and  is  to  be  inferred  from  the    change  of  theme, 

but  occasionally  the  antithesis  is  sharply  stated,  as,  to  take 
types,  in  Thomson,  the  Wartons,  and  Cowper.  It  is  Thom- 
son who  first  gives  adequate  statement  of  the  transfer  of 
sovereignty  from  the  "fine  lady  muses  of  Richmond  Hill" 
to  "  the  muses  of  the  simple  country."  It  is  his  hatred  of 
the  noisome  town,  his  delight  in  fields  and  woods  untouched 
by  man,  that  established  the  new  canon  of  taste.  In  the 
Wartons,  twenty  years  later,  the  breach  between  the  city  and 
the  country  is  almost  an  impassable  gulf.  Combined  with  the  love 
of  nature  in  her  external  forms  there  is  that  spirit  of  romantic  mel- 
ancholy by  virtue  of  which  the  poet  regards  nature  as  a  refuge 
from  the  tormenting  complexities  that  beset  the  life  of  men  in 
communities.  There  is  usually  a  touch,  sometimes  more  than  a 
touch,  of  morbidness  in  the  passionate  eagerness  to  escape  not 
only  from  the  city  into  nature,  but  from  man  and  all  traces  of  his 
dominion  into  a  solitude  free  from  all  human  suggestiveness. 
Forty  years  after  the  Wartons,  Cowper's  famous  epigram,  "  God 
made  the  country  and  man  made  the  town,"  summed  the  matter 
up  according  to  the  new  view.  Cowper  is  as  emphatic  in  his  pref- 
erences as  his  predecessors,  and  much  more  detailed  and  min- 
ute in  his  expression.   With  him  there  is  no  vague  generalizing,  no 


GENERAL  SUMMARY  263 

morbid  or  passionate  over-statement.  His  love  of  the  country  is 
a  fundamental  fact  not  only  in  his  physical,  but  also  and  even 
especially  in  his  moral  and  spiritual  life.  It  is  a  fixed  principle, 
quiet,  rational,  inevitable.  The  anti-classical  side  of  the  city  and^ 
country  antithesis  receives  in  Cowper's  poetry  its  most  decisive 
and  most  reasonable  eighteenth  century  statement.  We  hardly 
find  anything  so  conclusive  in  fiction  or  in  travels.  There  is  an 
occasional  expression  of  regret  at  going  back  to  towns  after  a 
trip  through  the  mountains  and  lakes,  but  as  a  rule  the  prefer- 
ence for  the  country  is  left  to  be  inferred  from  the  general  tenor, 
of  the  traveler's  writings.  Mrs.  Brooke  protests  much  against 
London,  and  declares  her  preference  for  nature  unadorned. 
Mackenzie's  Julia  rejoices  over  her  country  birth  and  education, 
and  Mrs.  Radcliffe  reiterates  the  desirability  of  living  far  from 
towns  and  as  close  as  possible  to  the  influence  of  nature. 
Cowper,  however,  remains  as  having  given  the  final,  emphatic 
statement. 

Through  all  this  detailed  study  and  wide  knowledge  of  nature  \ 
there  runs  an  undercurrent  of  personal  enthusiasm  which  is  quite 
a  separate  thing  from  the  knowledge  of  nature,  but 
Personal  which   led   to   that   knowledge  and  was  fed   by  it. 

Sometimes   we   are    left   to   infer   this    enthusiasm 
for  nature 

from  results,  but   oftener  it   finds   clear  statement. 

There    is    frequent    expression    of    such  "  unspeakable    joy "  as         y 

Ambrose  Philips  felt  when  he  gazed  on  a  little  country  home,  or 

of  Ramsay's  "  heartsome  joy  "  on  a  bright  spring  morning 

"  to  see  the  rising  plants, 

And  hear  the  birds  chirm  o'er  their  pleasin'  rants," 

or  of  Hamilton's  rapturous  joy  as  he  lies  on  the  flowering-turf, 
his  soul  "  commercing  with  the  sky."  In  many  passages  Thom- 
son expresses  his  passionate  delight  in  the  music,  the  color,  the  \ 
fragrances  of  the  outdoor  world.  Dyer's  joys  run  high  as  he 
lies  on  the  mountain-turf.  Shenstone  says  that  the  beauties  of 
nature  alone  bear  perpetual  sway,  and  he  thinks  with  scorn  of  a 
soul  so  narrow  that  it  cannot  relish  nature's  calm  delights. 
Joseph  Warton  cannot  find  words  to  express  the  ecstasy  with 
which   he    looks    on    nature.     John    Langhorne's    only    wish    is 


264         TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

that  he  may  enjoy  the  blessings  nature  gives  to  those  who  love 
her,  and  says  that  her  charm  alone  is  unfading.  Beattie  says  that 
the  man  who  goes  to  nature  has  rapture  ever  new.  Cowper 
thinks  that  any  man  who  turns  away  from  nature  starves  deserv- 
edly. Burns  says  that  he  looked  upon  nature  with  boundless 
joy.  This  feeling  of  exhilaration,  of  rapturous  delight,  is  per- 
vasive. It  is  often  inadequate,  or  vague,  or  extravagant  in  state- 
ment, but  the  delight  is  unfeigned,  the  enthusiasm  real,  and  in 
poet  after  poet  it  demanded  expression.  That  it  seldom  found 
the  perfect  statement  only  means  that  art  is  long  and  that  much 
thinking  and  feeling  in  an  age  as  in  an  individual  must  go  before 
the  final  art-form. 

Much  of    this   delight    in  nature  is   in   kind   though  not   in 
degree  like  that  which   Wordsworth  in  Ti)itern   Abbey  calls  his 

second  period  of  love  for  nature,  the  time  when 
God  in  nature     the  colors  and  forms  of  the  external  world  were  a 

sufficiently  engrossing  pleasure,  and  he  felt  no 
need  of  "  a  remoter  charm  by  thought  supplied."  But  Words- 
worth quickly  passed  from  this  stage  of  pleasure  to  another.  In 
his  best  descriptions,  as  in  The  Yew  Trees,  he  gives  a  few 
external  details,  and  then  at  once  penetrates  to  the  inner  spirit 
of  the  scene.  He  is  like  a  portrait  painter  who  represents  the 
features  with  truth  and  simplicity  but  makes  the  face  live  because 
he  has  divined  the  qualities  of  soul  behind  it.  Now  whatever 
philosophical  tenets  Wordsworth  held  he  certainly  thought  of 
this  soul  of  nature,  whether  of  nature  as  a  whole,  or  in  special 
parts,  as  in  some  way  a  manifestation  of  divinity.  In  other  words 
he  saw  God  immanent  in  nature.  The  classical  conception  also 
saw  God  in  nature,  but  as  the  remote  Architect,  Artificer,  Law- 
giver. The  universe  was  dead,  cold,  inert  matter.  For  the  diffi- 
culty with  which  it  was  made  to  serve  men's  needs  the  defenders 
of  Omnipotence  felt  apologetic  explanations  necessary.  We 
have  seen  that  during  the  eighteenth  century  there  came  a  great  and 
joyous  awakening  to  the  external  charm  of  the  world.  Are  there 
also  indications  that  the  divine  life  in  nature  was  felt  ? 

Throughout  theeighteenth  century  the  usual  thought  of  God  in 
relation   to    nature  is   the   classical    one.      He  is  the  author  and 


I 


GENERAL  SUMMARY  265 

controller  ;  of  the  universe  ;  but  there  are  some  poeuis  or  passages 
or  separate  lines  that  seem  to  indicate  a  new  conception.  Lady 
Winchelsea  recognizes  a  curious  correspondence  between  nature 
and  her  own  heart,  and  says  that  in  the  quiet  of  a  beautiful  night 
she  feels  the  presence  of  something  too  high  for  syllables  to  / 
speak.  There  is  a  similar  feeling  in  Hamilton's  description  of  a 
silent  grove.  In  the  Nocturnal  Revery  and  in  Contemplation  the 
idea  of  divinity  is  not  explicitly  stated,  but  in  Parnell's  Hymn  the 
song  of  praise  is  professedly  to  the  Source  of  all  Nature,  because 
through  nature  the  divine  spirit  had  spoken  peace  to  the  poet's 
troubled  heart.  The  incessant  and  ever-present  creative  activity>-+- 
of  God  is  clearly  set  forth  in  Thomson's  Hymn.  Each  ray  of  | 
sunshine,  every  blossoming  flower  of  spring,  every  leaping 
stream,  every  rolling  orb,  performs  its  function  as  a  direct 
expression  of  divine  energy.  And  some  lines  give  a  further  sug- 
gestion of  divine  immanence.  The  rolling  year  is  full  of  God. 
The  seasons  are  but  the  varied  God.  The  beauty  of  God  walks 
forth  in  the  flushing  spring.  Such  expressions  as  these  mark  a 
half-involuntary  poetic  seizing  of  tlie  new  idea  of  nature  as  the 
bodily  presence  of  which  God  was  the  soul,  but  they  do  not 
indicate  Thomson's  leading  ideas.  Mallet,  imitative  of  Thomson 
in  this  as  in  other  respects,  usually  speaks  of  God  as  the  Creator, 
but  in  one  passage  touches  on  the  full  stream  of  universal  Good- 
ness that  is  ever-flowing  through  earth,  air,  and  sea,  and  on  the 
ceaseless  song  of  praise  going  up  from  the  great  community  of 
nature's  sons.  Boyse  in  his  Deity  thinks  of  God  as  an  Almighty 
Architect,  but  has  a  few  lines  in  which  he  represents  all  nature  as 
being  momently  derived  from  God.  Young  has  a  significant 
line  when  he  says  that  night  is  the  "  felt  presence  of  the  Deity." 
The  theme  of  Akenside's  poem  is  to  show  the  response  which 
the  imaginative  mind  finds  in  nature,  and  this  response  is,  he 
says,  the  voice  of  the  divine  spirit.  His  conception  is  usually, 
to  be  sure,  that  the  divine  spirit  speaks  through  the  forms  of 
nature,  rather  than  that  the  form  and  the  spirit  have  an  essential 
union.  Yet  sometimes  he  speaks  more  clearly  the  new  thought. 
He  says  that  the  man  who  loves  nature  holds  daily  converse  with 
God   himself.     The    beauty  of  nature   flows   directly  from   God. 


2  66         TREA  TMENT  OF  NA  TURE  IN  ENGLISH  POE  TR  V 

The  order  in  nature  is  sacred.  The  influence  whereby  nature 
soothes  and  cheers  and  elevates  man  is  really  a  divine  influence. 
This  is  the  fullest  recognition  of  an  in-dwelling  God  until  we 
reach  Cowper.  In  his  poetry  we  find  a  clear  statement  of  belief, 
"  There  lives  and  works 
A  soul  in  all  things,  and  that  soul  is  God," 

but  the  point  is  not  one  on  which  he  dwells.  These  passages 
certainly  foreshadow  Wordsworth's  conception  of  God  in  nature, 
but  they  are  comparatively  feeble  and  unimaginative  in  expres- 
sion. There  is  nothing  so  Wordsworthian  in  Thomson's  sonor- 
ous lines  or  in  Akenside's  ample  statement  as  there  is  the 
feeling  that  penetrates  the  brief  words  of  Lady  Winchelsea  and 
Parnell.  Compared  to  these  even  Cowper  seems  cold  and  intel- 
lectual. 

Wordsworth  did  not,  however,  lay  special  stress  on   his  belief 
that  the  spirit  he  felt  in  nature  was  divine.     He  rather  took  that 
for  granted,  or  allowed  it  to  be  implied  in  the  pas- 
Sense  01  sionate  fullness  and  intensity  of  his  expressions  of 

f  ,  , ,   ,  ofratitude  to  that"  spirit  for  sfifts  of  mind  and  heart. 

indebtedness       ^  r  r> 

to  nature  This   sense   of  indebtedness   to   nature    found   no 

place  in  the  classical  poetry.  But  in  the  transition 
period  it  receives  surprisingly  full  and  varied  expression.  Some- 
times it  takes  the  form  of  personal  gratitude  for  special  gifts; 
sometimes  it  is  a  general  statement  of  what  man  owes  to  nature. 
A  brief  review  of  the  more  significant  passages  will  serve  to  show 
the  characteristics  of  this  feeling  towards  nature. 

To  begin  with,   nature  gives  peace.     This   is   the  gift   most 
often  spoken  of.     Even  John  Philips  said  that  nature  calmed  his 

mind.  Ambrose  Philips  liked  the  songs  of  birds 
Peace  because  they  brought  him  into  a  mood  of  "sweet 

and  gentle  composure."  Lady  Winchelsea  enjoyed 
the  night  because  its  influence  disposed  her  heart  to  silent  mus- 
ings and  made  her  conscious  of  a  "sedate  content."  Parnell 
had  long  vainly  sought  contentment  until  at  last  his  heart 
received  the  message  of  peace  through  the  voices  of  nature. 
Hamilton  said  that  all  the  passions  in  the  troubled  breast  of  man 
could  be  calmed  by  the  quiet   of  a   grove.     Thomson  finds   in 


GENERAL  SUMMARY  267 

nature  a  power  that  can  "serene  his  soul"  and  "harmonize  his 
heart."  Dyer  finds  peace  and  quiet  in  "the  meads  and  mountain- 
heads."  Mallet  follows  Thomson  in  thought  and  phrase  when 
he  represents  that  nature  has  power  to  "serene  the  soul." 
Akenside  says  that  the  spirit  of  nature  lulls  man's  passions  to  a 
divine  repose.  Cooper  says  that  a  contemplation  of  the  order 
and  regularity  in  nature's  life  will  induce  a  like  harmonious 
action  in  the  human  heart,  and  that  the  fiercest  passions  of 
horror  and  revenge  can  be  soothed  by  nature.  Joseph  Warton 
says  that  all  nature  conspires  to  sooth  and  harmonize  the  mind. 
William  Whitehead  speaks  of  the  "philosophic  calmness"  that 
comes  to  man  from  nature.  Beattie's  hermit  found  in  nature  a 
power  that  could  subdue  the  wildest  passions  and  give  "  profound 
repose."  Bruce  found  in  nature  "harmony  of  mind."  Bowles 
felt  a  "soothing  charm"  that  brought  "solace  to  his  heart" 
and  "bore  him  on  serene."  So,  too,  was  it  with  Cowper. 
Nature  gave  him  heart-consoling  joys,  and  brought  peace  and 
quiet  into  his  life.  This  power  of  nature  to  sooth  the  mind  of 
man  and  to  modify  his  passions  receives  full  expression  also  in 
Mrs.  Radcliffe's  romances. 

Nature  gives   not   only  peace  and  rest  to   man.     She   gives 
him  joy.       The   sense  of   ecstasy   and  rapture   in   this    joy   has 

already  been  indicated   in   the  passages  expressive 
Joy  of  personal  enthusiasm   for  nature.     Sometimes  it 

was  a  joy  rising  out  of  the  delight  of  agreeable 
physical  sensations,  as  when  Lady  Winchelsea  felt  in  the  odor  of  I 
the  jonquil  a  pleasure  so  keen  that  it  was  pain,  or  when  J  " 
Langhorne  sank  down  oppressed  by  the  boundless  charms  of 
field  and  wood,  or  such  joy  as  Gray's  convalescent  knew  when  he 
went  out  again  into  nature.  But  here  a  more  spiritual  joy  is 
referred  to.  It  is  rather  the  disturbing  joy  of  elevated  thoughts 
of  which  Wordsworth  speaks.  This  uplift  of  soul  in  the  presence 
of  nature  is  felt  by  Parnell  when  he  seeks  to  give  expression  to 
the  great  chorus  of  thanksgiving  to  God  from  all  existences. 
Lady  Winchelsea  and  John  Langhorne  felt  it  when  nature  gave 
them  "thoughts  too  high  to  be  express't."  Akenside  felt  it,  and 
in  a  truly  Wordsworthian  sense,  when  he  said  that  in  the  presence 


/ 


V 


268         TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

of  nature  the  intellect  is  charmed  into  a  suspension  of  its 
graver  cares,  while  love  and  joy  alone  possess  the  soul.  Burns 
finds  that  nature  exalts,  enraptures  him,  making  him  conscious 
of  an  elevation  of  soul.  And,  finally,  in  Gilpin,  we  find,  though 
awkwardly  expressed,  an  exact  statement  of  the  enthusiastic  calm, 
the  visionary  joy,  with  which  Wordsworth  looked  on  nature. 

A  third  gift  of  nature  is  poetical  inspiration,  and  that,  too,  in 
the  sense    in   which  Wordsworth   believed  that  nature   set    hiui 

apart  for  poetry  and  assisted  him  in  his  develop- 
Inspiration         ment.       Akenside's   apostrophe    to    the  Wansbeck 

along  whose  banks  he  wandered  in  childhood, 
"  led  in  silence  by  some  powerful  hand  unseen,"  his  asser- 
tion that  these  influences  fixed  the  color  of  his  life  for  every 
future  year,  his  thought  of  nature's  "tender  discipline"  when 
skies  and  streams  and  groves  conspire  to  guide  the  predestined 
sons  of  Fancy,  are  strikingly  Wordsworthian.  Langhorne 
says  that  in  his  lonely  youth  "the  woodland  genius"  came  and 
touched  him  with  the  holy  flame  of  poetry.  To  the  Genius  of 
Westmoreland  he  ascribes  the  sacred  fire  within  his  breast.  The 
whole  theme  of  Beattie's  Minstrel  is,  as  has  been  pointed  out, 
the  effect  of  nature  on  a  poetically  sensitive  mind. 

Nature  also  gives  a  wisdom  such  as  books  and  schools  can- 
not give.       The    earliest   expression  of  this  thought  is  in  Pat- 

tison's  comparison  of  the  deep  wisdom  drawn 
Wisdom  from  nature  and  the  superficial  knowledge  of  the 

schools.  Gay  in  the  contest  between  the  Shepherd 
who  knew  nature  and  the  Philosopher  who  knew  cities  and  books 
determined  that  nature  without  the  schools  can  make  men  wise. 
Langhorne  says  that  "fair  Philosophy,"  like  Poetry,  must  be 
sought  for  in  nature.  There  is,  however,  no  other  eigtheenth 
century  statement  of  this  idea  so  complete  as  Cowper's  eulogy 
of   the  wisdom  of  the  heart  that  nature  gives. 

Nature  is  also  considered  as  inspiring  to  morality  and  virtue. 
Gay,  in  a  fable  already  quoted  from,  says  that  nature  can  make 
men  "moral"  and  "good,"  if  they  will  learn  her  lessons. 
Thomson  meditates  on  nature  because  thence  he  hopes  to 
learn    lessons    of    morality.     Mallet    says    that    nature    inspires 


\ 


GENERAL  SUMMARY.  269 

the  soul  with  "virtuous  raptures"  and  prompts  man  to  forsake 
sin-born  vanities  and  low  pursuits.  Akenside's  chief  theme  is 
the  power  of  nature  to  lead  men  from  petty  inter- 
Incitements  to  ests  and  hurried,  sordid  lives  into  a  beneficent  and 
virtue  ordered   activity  of  the  soul.     Cooper  ascribes  to 

"every  natural  scene  a  moral  power."  John  Lang- 
horne  says  that  the  sweet  sensations  of  nature,  move  the  "springs 
of  virtue's  love,"  and  have  a  "moral  use,"  and  that  religion,  fled 
from  books,  can  be  found  in  nature  whence  we  first  drew  both 
our  knowledge  and  our  virtue.  Beattie  says  that  the  charms  of 
nature  work  "the  soul's  eternal  health."  They  inspire  love  and 
gentleness.  They  incite  to  high  living,  and  the  man  who 
neglects  them  can  hardly  hope  to  be  forgiven.  A  pervading 
thought  in  Cowper's  poems  is  his  moral  and  spiritual  indebted- 
ness to  nature. 

Wordsworth  not  infrequently  indicates  his  belief  that  the 
spirit  of  nature  consciously  blesses  man.  This  idea  is  sometimes 
found  in  the  transition  poetry,  as  in  Hamilton's  Contemplatio)i , 
and  especially  in  Akenside  and  Cowper  who  represent  nature  as 
making  the  happiness  of  man  "her  dear  and  only  aim." 

So  far  we  have  discussed  the  knowledge  of  nature  and  the  feel- 
ing towards  it  rather  than  its  use  in  literature.  That  this  knowl- 
edge was  abundant  and  varied,  that  this  feeling  was 

ry  use       enthusiastic  and  often  deeply  reverential,  may,  per- 
of  nature  ^  ■  ,  'r 

haps,  pass  without  further  question.     But  a  different 

problem  presents  itself  when  we  ask  what  literary  use  the  eighteenth 

century  poet  made  of  nature.     It  must  be  conceded  at  the  outset 

that  many  references  to  natural  facts  are  not  literary  at  all.      In 

Mallet's  Excursiofi,  for  instance,  his  journey  through  stellar  spaces 

renders  frequent  mention  of  the  sky  and  stars  inevitable,  but  the 

references  might  as  well  be  to  macadamized  roads.     His  purpose 

is  merely   to  get   from  one  point   of   vantage  to  another.     Such 

brief,  cold,  unpicturesque  use  of  details  for  purposes  of  transition 

are  really  non-literary.      In  any  tabular  statement  of  an  author's 

work  some  discount  must  be  made  to  allow  for  this  mechanical 

use  of   nature,   and    in    certain    authors,   as   notably  Mallet   and 

Young,  the  discount  is  large.    Another  non-literary  use  of  nature 


2  7  o         TREA  TMENT  OF  NA  TURE  IN  ENGLISH  FOE  TR  V 

is  in  the  catalogue  or  summary.  John  Scott  gives  the  extreme 
example  of  this  unorganized  accumulation  of  details.  The  instinct 
of  the  artist  is  wanting.  The  poet  does  not  even  attempt  to  make 
nature  a  part  of  a  well-fused  literary  product.  He  is  encumbered 
by  his  material.  He  crowds  his  canvas.  His  full  and  realistic 
presentation  is  without  artistic  reservations.  His  record  is 
prompted  simply  by  interest  in  the  separate  facts.  No  literary 
purpose  determines  his  selection  or  rejection  of  detail.  A  recog- 
nized theme,  unity,  proportion,  are. absent.  Such  summaries  may 
be  of  the  highest  importance  as  showing  the  abundance  and  exact- 
ness of  the  author's  knowledge  of  nature,  and  separate  phrases 
may  have  real  literary  quality,  but  the  passage  as  a  whole  is  no 
more  literary  than  an  inventory. 

When,  however,  a  purpose  is  apparent  in  the  use  of  nature, 
when  there  is  discrimination  under  the  dominance  of  a  central 
idea,  then,  however  crude  and  feeble  the  actual  result,  there  is  at 
least  an  attempt  to  use  nature  in  a  literary  way. 

This  dominating  purpose  may  be  merely  description  for  its 
own  sake,  an  attempt  to  present  aspects  of  nature  in  successive, 
isolated,  artistically  composed  pictures,  each  complete  in  itself 
and  having  its  parts  organically  related.  Such  description  is 
entirely  objective.  Its  aim  is  the  reproduction  of  sights  and 
sounds  by  which  nature  under  given  conditions  appeals  to  the 
senses.  When  highly  elaborated  its  obvious  danger  is  that  there 
will  be,  in  spite  of  the  most  artistic  management,  a  certain  vague- 
ness and  heaviness  of  effect.  There  are,  nevertheless,  very  beautiful 
examples  of  pure  detailed  description  dissociated  from  any  pur- 
pose except  that  of  making  a  picture  in  words.|  in  both  Thomson 
and  Cowper,  and  here  and  there  less  successful  examples  in  other 
writers. 

A  more  subtle  use  of  nature  is  when  the  poet  assembles  his 
details  in  order  to  reproduce  not  a  scene  or  an  aspect  of^  nature, 
^  but  the  topical  impression  they  have  made  on  his  mind^   Lady 

Winchelsea  tells  many  facts  about  night,  but  her  purpose  is  not 
the  description  of  a  single  night  ;  it  is  the  reproduction  of  the 
loving  delight  and  tender  awe  awakened  in  her  own  heart  by 
many  soft  summer  nights.     The  purpose  of  Parnell's  descriptive 


\ 


GENERAL  SUMMARY  271 

details  is  the  reproduction  of  the  mood  of  spiritual  content'induced 
by  certain  scenes.  Passages  such  as  these  are  often  more  or  less 
detailed  summaries,  but  they  have  literary  quality  because  the 
motif  produces  unity  of  effect. 

Again,  the  facts  and  descriptions  may  be  adduced  in  support  c_/  /t 

of  a  theory,  as  in  Young's  Night  Thoughts,  Akenside's  Pleasures  ' 

of  the  Imagination,  Shenstone's  Progress  of  Taste,  Beattie's  Min- 
strel, and  Cowper's  Task.  Here,  too,  an  organizing  purpose  is 
discernible,  though  there  is  the  greatest  possible  difference  in  the 
various  ways  of  using  the  material  for  the  given  purpose  ;  Young's 
.facts  for  instance,  being  used  in  a  cold,  argumentative  fashion,, 
while  Beattie's  and  Cowper's  are  suffused  with  emotion. 

Another  use  of  nature  is  based  on  the  poet's  perception  of  the 
analogies  between  external  nature  and  human  life  or  character. 
One  outcome  of  this  sense  for  analogies  is  in  abundant  simili- 
tudes, a  literary  use  of  nature  common  in  all  languages,  at  all 
periods.  In  the  pseudo-classical  poetry  of  England  we  have  seen 
that  the  similitudes  were  conventional  and  superficial.  In  a  period 
of  intimate  knowledge  and  love  of  the  outer  world  there  is  stress 
on  the  truth  and  beauty  of  the  picture  from  nature  as  well  as  on 
the  human  fact  symbolized,  and  the  analogy  is  subtly  and  sym- 
pathetically conceived.     Wordsworth's 

"A  violet  by  a  mossy  stone 
Half  hidden  from  the  eye" 

is  perfect  in  itself  as  a  picture  of  nature,  and  it  is  exquisitely  apt 
in  describing  Lucy.  He  discovered  in  nature  that  which  in  its 
inner  significance  was  truly  a  counterpart  of  the  human  idea. 
With  regard  to  the  similitudes  of  the  transition  poetry  I  have 
noted  two  interesting  facts.  In  the  first  place,  in  proportion  to 
the  whole  use  of  nature  the  use  of  nature  in  similitudes  is  very 
much  less  in  the  transition  than  in  the  classical  poetry.  In  the 
second  place,  in 'no  other  way  of  using  nature  was  the  changed 
conception  of  the  outer  world  so  slow  to  manifest  itself.  Stock 
similes  persisted  even  in  authors  who,  in  other  respects,  gave  clear 
evidence  of  the  new  spirit.     It  was  apparently  easier  to  be  ^origi-  ^~ 

nal  and  individual  in  a  new  realm,  than  to  break  away  from  the 
established  conventions  of  an  accepted  literary  form.     As  another 


2  72  TREA  TMENT  OF  NA  TURE  IN  ENGLISH  POE  TR 1 ' 

outcome  of  the  recognized  correspondence  between  nature  and 
life  the  facts  of  nature  become,  as  it  were,  an  allegory  of  human 
experience.  From  Dyer  on  there  is  a  strain  of  pensive,  gently 
didactic  moralizing  drawn  from  the  poet's  observation  of  nature. 
A  river,  however  beautiful  in  itself  because  of  its  varying  motion, 
its  shifting  colors,  its  varied  banks,  its  progress  to  the  sea,  is  trans- 
formed in  the  poet's  mind  into  a  symbol  of  the  vicissitudes  and 
the  final  goal  of  life.  Of  the  more  obvious  analogies  of  this  sort 
we  find  many  examples,  but  of  the  highly  imaginative  use  of 
nature  whereby  the  external  fact,  however  truly  and  beautifully 
perceived,  seems  hardly  thought  of  except  as  a  symbol  of  the 
hidden  things  of  the  spirit  and  of  the  life  to  come  we  find  almost 
no  examples  outside  of  Blake. 

The  use  of  nature  in  connection  with  man's  jovs  or  sorrows 
may  be  lyrical  or  it  may  be  dramatic  in  tone.  Under  the  lyrical 
use  of  nature  may  be  classed  the  numerous  passages  in  which 
the  poet  dwells  upon  his  youth  and  the  early  joy  he  had  in  forest 
stream  and  field.  The  homesick  longing,  the  genuine  human 
feeling,  and  the  marks  of  local  fidelity  to  fact  make  this  use  of 
nature  usually  excellent.  It  often  takes  the  form  of  an  apos- 
trophe to  some  specific  river  or  grove  or  hill.  This  autobio- 
graphic use  of  nature  is  well  exemplified  in  Thomson,  Akenside, 
Beattie,  Langhorne,  Mickle,  Bruce,  and  Cowper.  Again,  the  poet 
recounts  with  lyrical  fervor  his  debt  to  nature.  He  gives  thanks 
for  content,  joy,  peace,  serenity,  or  he  implores  nature  to  appease 
the  longings  of  his  sick  heart,  to  restore  his  soul  to  health.  In 
either  case  there  is  a  mingling  of  human  emotions  and  details 
from  nature.  Such  passages  may  easily  be  feebly  hysterical, 
but  sometimes  as  in  Dyer,  Beattie,  Akenside,  Langhorne,  and 
Cowper,  they  are  marked  by  genuine  beauty  and  pathos  as  well 
as  by  directness  of  vision.  Perhaps  the  best  examples  of  scenes 
thus  indissolubly  connected  with  phases  of  spiritual  experience 
are  Bowles's  sonnets,  and  unquestionably  the  highest  purely 
lyrical  use  of  nature  is  in  Burns's  songs. 

Nature  is  used  dramatically  when  it  is   made   the  appropriate 

•^       background    or    accompaniment    of    human    life.     This    use    of 

nature  may  be  merely  to  intensify  the  reader's  impression  by  cer- 


\^ 


GENERAL  SUMMARY  273 

tain  effects  of  harmony  or  contrast.  Night,  for  instance,  is 
considered  the  appropriate  setting  for  reflections  on  man's  mor- 
tality, as  in  Young  and  Parnell.  A  certain  sort  of  scenery 
becomes  the  conventionally  fit  background  for  romantic  aspira- 
tions and  dejections,  as  in  all  the  sentimental  melancholy  poets. 
But  oftener  nature  is  not  merely  a  background.  It  is  mingled 
with  the  thought  and  action.  This  is  true  of  most  of  the  reflective, 
moralizing  poetry,  and  is  true  in  a  more  dramatic  sense  in  such 
pastorals  as  Ramsay's  and  Gay's  where  it  is  impossible  to  think 
of  the  people  and  their  doings  apart  from  the  nature  about  them. 
A  similar  dramatic  use  of  nature  is  to  be  seen  in  Gray,  in  Collins, 
in  Ossian,  and,  in  a  briefer  form,  in  the  Ballads.  It  is,  however, 
in  romantic  fiction  that  this  use  of  nature  is  most  abundant  during 
the  eighteenth  century.  As  background,  as  accompaniment,  and 
further,  even  as  a  force  contributing  to  the  progress  of  the  story 
by  its  determining  influence  on  mood  and  character,  external 
nature  plays  an  important  part.  This  background,  indeed,  some- 
times becomes  unduly  important,  almost  usurping  the  place  of 
the  picture,  as  in  Mrs.  Radcliffe's  romances. 

Nature  may,  finally,  be  regarded  not  only  as  making  a 
sensuous  appeal  to  man,  or  as  entering  in  some  way  into  relation- 
ship with  him,  but  as  having  an  independent  and  separate  exist- 
ence. The  poet  who  thus  conceives  of  nature  gives  little  detailed 
external  description  ;  nor  does  he  think  of  a  scene  in  its  human 
connotations,  but  he  goes  through  facts  and  perceives  the  spirit  of 
the  scene,  the  essential  qualities  that  make  it  what  it  is.  Of  such 
use  of  nature  we  find  few  eighteenth  century  examples.  It 
demands  not  only  Wordsworth's  wise  passiveness  of  mood,  and  ( 
clarity  of  vision,  and  depth  of  feeling,  but  likewise  the  power  to 
speak  the  inevitable  word. 

The  detailed  study  of  a  barren  field  in  its  most  barren  aspect 
would  be  inexcusably  dull  and  dreary  from  any  but  the  historical 
point  of  view.  The  moment  that  point  of  view  is  adopted 
interest  begins.  The  study  of  literature  as  a  growth,  an  evolution, 
gives  a  new  significance  to  periods  of  transition.  The  pleasure 
of  the  biologist  in  the  lower  forms  of  life  is  paralleled  by  the 
delight  of  the  student  of  literature  in  tracing  out  the  first  vague, 


^74         TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

ineffective  attempts  to  express  ideas  that  are  afterwards  regnant. 

The  final  effect  of  the  present  study  is  one  of  surprise  to  find 
how  completely  the  ideas  of  the  early  nineteenth  century  poetry 
of  nature  were  represented  in  the  germ  in  the  eighteenth  century. 
The  whole  impression  is  that  before  the  work  of  such  men  as 
Wordsworth,  Coleridge,  and  Scott  there  was  a  great  stir  of  getting 
ready.  The  love  of  nature  was  awake  in  the  hearts  of  men. 
Their  eyes  were  open  to  her  beauty.  Their  ears  drank  in  her 
harmonies.  Their  spirits  were  conscious  of  her  higher  gifts. 
Before  Wordsworth  most  of  his  characteristic  thoughts  on  nature 
■had  received  fairly  explicit  statement. 

We  note  also  the  vitality  of  the  impulse  toward  nature  as  indi- 
cated by  the  many  directions  in  which  it  pushed  out  and 
demanded  expression.  With  little  self-conscious  direction,  and 
independently  of  each  other  apparently,  the  various  arts  were 
irresistibly  impelled  to  some  sort  of  expression  of  the  new 
interest  in  the  external  world.  Nor  can  we  ignore  the  fact  that 
behind  all  forms  of  art  expression  there  must  have  been  the  great 
impulsive  force  of  a  love  of  nature  active  in  the  hearts  of  the 
mute  inglorious  many. 

When  at  the  end  of  such  a  period  of  preparation  the  great 
'  poet  comes,  he  is  great  by  virtue  of  his  power  to  penetrate 
beneath  literary  conventions  and  to  give  free,  vigorous,  adequate 
expression  to  the  struggling,  half-articulate  thoughts  and  feelings 
of  his  own  age.  He  is  not  an  inexplicable,  isolated  phenomenon. 
He  has  his  natural  place  in  the  development.  The  profound 
significance  of  the  work  that  marks  an  epoch  in  thought  is  that 
it  not  only  directs  the  future,  but  it  sums  up  the  past. 


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0  Croxall,  Samuel  :  Poems.     Southev's  Later  English  Poets,  Vol.  2. 
Cunningham,  Allen  :  British  Painters.     London,  1879. 

—  Dalton,  Dr.  John  :  Poems.     Bell's  Fugitive  Poems,  Vol.  2. 

—  Defoe,   Daniel :    The  Life  and  Strange,  Surprising  Adventures    of    Robinson 

Crusoe.     Ed.  G.  A.  Aitken,  London,  1895. 

—  Denham,  John  :  Poems.     Dr.  Johnson's  English  Poets,  Vol.  9. 
~  Dodsley,  Robert:  Poems.     Chalmers'  English  Poets,  Vol.  15. 

•"  Downing,  A.  J.:  Landscape  Gardening  and  Rural  Architecture.    New  York,  1S60. 


BIBLIOGRAPHICAL  INDEX  277 

Dryden,  John  :   Works.    9  vols.    Eds.  Scott  and  Saintsbury.    Edinburgh,    1882.   " 

Duck,  Stephen  :  Poems.     Southey's  Later  English  Poets,  Vol.  2.  o 

Dyer,  John  :  Poems.     Dr.  Johnson's  English  Poets,  Vol.  53.     ~- 

Etherege,  Sir  George  :  Plays  and  Poems.     London,  1888.  — 

Evelyn,  John  :    Tlie  Diary  of  John  Evelyn  from   1641  to  170^-b.     Ed.  William 

Bray.     London,  1 890. 
Falconer,  William:  Poetical  Works.     Aldine  ed.,  London,  1882.    — 
Famous  Parks  and  Gardens  of  the  World.     London,  1880.    ^ 
Fenton,  Elijah:  Poems.     Chalmers'  English  Poets,  Vol.  10.      • 
Fielding,  Henry:    Works.      10  vols.     Ed.  Leslie  Stephen.     London,  1882.  6 
Fielding,  Sarah  :   The  Adventures  of  David  Simple.     2  vols.     London,  1741.  o 
Fischer,   Ch,  A.:     Drei  Studien  zur  Englischen   Literaturgeschichte.     Gotha,  ^ 

1892. 
Garth,  Sir  Samuel:  Poems.     Dr.  Johnson's  English  Poels,  Vol.  20.    - 
Gay,  John  :  Poems.     Dr.  Johnson's  English  Poets,  Vols.  41  and  42.    — 
Gilpin,  William  :  Essays  on  Picturesque  Beauty.     London,  1808.        "^ 
Gosse,  Edmund  :  Seventeenth    Century  Studies.     London,  1885.     From  Shake- 
speare to  Pope.     New  York,  1885.     A  History  of  Eighteenth  Century  Liter- 
ature.    New  York,  i8gi. 
Gray,  Thomas:   Works.     Ed.  Edmund  Gosse.     4  vols.     New  York,  1890.— 
Graeme,  James  :  Poems.     Anderson's  British  Poets,  Vol  li,  Part  I.   o 
Grainger,  James  :  Poems.     Chalmers'  English  Poets,  Vol.  14.     — 
Green,  Matthew  Paris:  Chalmers'  English  Poets,  Vol.  15.   ' 
Halifax,  Earl  of:  Poems.     Dr.  Johnson's  English  Poets,  Vol.  12.  o 
Hamilton,  Rev.  Wm.:  Letters  from  Antrim.     Pinkerton's  Collection,  Vol.  3.^ 
Hassel,  J.:   Tour  to  the  Isle  of  Wight.     Pinkerton's  Collection,  Vol.  2.    — 
Hawkesworth,  John  :  Almoran  and  Hamet.     Mrs.  Barbauld's  British  Novelists,  o 
Hill,  Aaron  :  Poe>ns.     Anderson's  British  Poets,  Vol.  8.  o 
Howell,  James  :  F.pistohv  Ho-Eliana:.     London,  1737.  0 

Hughes,  John  :  Poems.     Dr.  Johnson's  English  Poets,  Vol.  22.—- 
Humboldt,  Alexander  Von  :  Kosmos.     4  vols.     Stuttgart,  1890.    ■—■ 
Hutchinson,  W.:  An  Excursioti  to  the  Lakes  in  Westmoreland  and  Cumberland,   o 

London,  1776. 
Inchbald,  Mrs.:  A  Simple  Story.     Mrs.  Barbauld's  British  Novelists.  ^ 
Jago,  Richard:  Poems.     Anderson's  British  Poets,  Vol.  ir.  — 
Jencks,  J.  W.:  Rural  Poetry.     Boston,  1856.    O 
Jenyns,  Soame  :  Poems.     'Be.Ws  Fugitive  Poets,  Vol.  I.     ^ 
Johnson,  Samuel :   Works.     9  vols.     Oxford  English  Classics,  1825.  - 
King,  William  :  Poems.     Dr.  Johnson's  English  Poets,  Vol.  20.  — 
Langhorne,  John  :  Poems.     British  Poets,  Vol.  II.  "^ 

Laprade,  Victor  de  :  La  Sentiment  de  la  Nature  chez  les  Modernes.     Paris,  1870.    ^ 
Lecky,  W.  E.  H.:  History  of  England  in  the  Eighteenth  Century.    8  vols.    New  _ 

York,  1882. 
Lee,  Vernon :     Euphorion.     Boston,    1885.         


278  TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

Lennox,  Mrs.:    The  Female  Quixote.     Mrs.  Barbauld's  British  Novelists.     ^ 

Logan,  John:  British  Poets,  Vol.  Ii.    • 

Loudon,  J.  C:  Encyclopccdia  of  Gardening.     London,  187 1. — 

Lyttleton,  Lord  :  Poems.     Dr.  Johnson's  English  Poets,  Vol.  56.  a 

Mackenzie,  Henry:    The  Man  of  Feeling.    Julia  de  Roubique.     Mrs.  Barbauld's  ^ 

British  N'ovelists. 
Macpherson,   James:  Poems  of  Ossian.     Ed.  Dr.  Blair.     Tauchnitz  Ed.     Leip-    - 

zig,  1847. 
McLaughlin,  Edward  T.:  Studies  in  Mediaval Life  and  Literature.    New  York, 

1894. 
Mallet,  David  :  Poems.     Dr.  Johnson's  English  Poets,  Vol.  53.    — 
Marriott,  Mr.:  Poems.     Dodsley's  Supplement,  Vol.  4.  >> 

Martin,  Mr.:  Description  of  the  Western  Islands  of  Scotland.     Pinkerton's   Collec-  _j 

tion,  Vol.  3. 
Marvell,  Andrew  :   Works.     4  vols.     Ed.  Grosart.     Fuller   Worthies'  Library,   ^ 

1875- 
Mason,    William:    Poems.     London,    1764.      The   English    Garden.     Jencks's     0 

Rural  Poetry. 
Mendez,  Moses  :   The  Seasons.     Bell's  Fugitive  Poets,  Vol  6.  -^ 
Mickle,  Wm.  J.:  Poems.     Park's  British  Poets,  Vol.  34.        ■*- 
Miller,  Hugh:  Impressions  of  Englatid  and  its  People.     London,  1847.^ 
yi\\X.ov\.,]oh.n:  Poetical  Works.     3  vols.     Ed.  Masson.     New  York,  1894. - 
Moore,  Dr.:  Zeluco.     Mrs.  Barbauld's  British  Novelists.     ** 
Montagu,  Lady  Mary  Wortley  :     Letters  and  Works.     2  vols.     London,  1887.-- 
Paltock,  Robert :    The  Life  and  Adventures  of  Peter  Wilkins.     2  vols.     London,    o 

1884. 
Parnell,  Thomas  :  Poetical  Works,  London,  1 890.  ■<• 
Pattison,  William  :  Poems.     Anderson's  British  Poets.  C 
Pennant,  Thomas  :    Tours  in  Scotland.     Pinkerton's  Collection,  Vol.  3.  -^ 
Pennecuik,  Alexander:    Works  in  Prose  and  Verse.     Leith,  1815.    o 
Percy,    Bishop :      Reliques  of  Ancient   English    Poetry.     3    vols.     Ed.    H.     B,  — 

Wheatley,  London,  1891. 
Perry,  T.  S.:  English  Literature  in  the  Eighteenth   Century.     New  York,  1883.  - 
Petrarca.  Francesco  :  Lettere  Famigliari.     5  vols.     Florence,  1863.      c 
Phelps,  W.  L.:    The  Beginnings  of  the  English  Romantic  Movement.     Boston,   ^ 

1893. 
Philips,  Ambrose:  Dr.  Johnson's  English  Poets,  Vol.  14.    f- 
Philips,  John  :  Dr.  Johnson's  English  Poets,  Vol.  21.      — 
Pitt,  Christopher :  Poems.     Dr.  Johnson's  English  Poets,  Vol.  43.  — 
Pope,    Alexander:    Works.      10  vols.     Eds.    Edwin    and   Courthope.      London     — 

1671. 
Potter,  R.:  Poems.     Bell's  Fugitive  Poets,  vol.  6.       <• 
J  Price,  Sir  Uredale  :  An  Essay  on  the  Picturesque.     London,  1794.  ^ 
Prior,  Matthew  :  Dr.  Johnson's  English  Poets,  Vols.  30,  31.     _ 


BIBLIOGRAPHICAL  INDEX  279 

Radcliffe,  Mrs. :  Romance  of  a  Forest.     3  vols.     London,  1803.     Mysteries  of     - 

Udolpho.     4  vols.     London,  1803. 
Ramsay,  Allan:  Poems.     2  vols.      Paisley,  1877.      - 

Redgrave,  Gilbert :   Water-color  Painting  in  England.     New  York,  1892.  o 
Reeve,  Cora:  Old  English  Baron.     Mrs.  Barbauld's  British  Novelists,  Vol.  21.  — 
Repton,  Humphrey  :  Landscape  Gardening  and  Landscape  Architecture.     Ed.  ^ 

J.  C.  Loudon.     London,  1840. 
Richardson,  Samuel :   lVo>-ks.     Ed.    Leslie   Stephen.     12  vols.     London,    1883.- 
Robertson,  David  :     Tour    Through   the  Isle   of  Alan.     Pinkerton's   Collection,  ^ 

Vol.  2. 
Roscommon,  Earl  of  :     Poems.     Dr.  Johnson's  English  Poets,  Vol.  10.    « 
Rowe,  Nicholas :  Poems.     Dr.  Johnson's  English  Poets,  Vol.  26.    - 
Ruskin,  John  :  Modern  Painters,  2  vols.     Bantwood  Ed.,  London,  1891.— 
Savage,  Richard  :  Dr.  Johnson's  English  Poets,  Vol.  45.      " 
Scott,  John  :  Poems.     Anderson's  British  Poets,  Vol.  Ii,  Part  2.  O 
Shadwell,  Thomas  :     Dramatic  Works.     2  vols.     London,  1820.  r- 
Shaw,  Rev.  Mr. :    Tour  to  the  West  of  England.     Y\Vi\i.txion'%  Collection,  Vol.  2. — 
.  ■    Shairp,  J.  C.  :   On  the  Poetic  Interpretation  of  Nature.     Boston,  1890.     — 

Shenstone,  William  :  Poems.     Dr.   Johnson's   English  Poets,  Vol.    52.      Uncon- 
nected Thoughts  on   Landscape  Gardening  in   Works.     3   vols.     London, 

1764-69. 
Siret,  Adolph  :  Dictionnaire  Historique  des  Peintres.     Bruxelles,  l848..c» 
Smart,  Christopher  :  Poems.     QXi^Xwi^xs''  English  Poets,  No\.  \b.     Song  to  David.  ^ 

Clarke's  Less  Knowit  British  Poets,  Vol.  3.       G 
Smith,  Mrs.  Charlotte  :     The  Old  Manor  House.  ^^ 
Smollett,  Tobias  :   Works,  6  vols.     London,  1890.  — 
Somerville,  William :  Poems.     Dr.  Johnson's  English  Poets,  Vol.  47.  — 
Spooner,  Shearjashub  :  Dictionary  of  Painters.     New  York,  1853.   ° 
Spratt,  Thomas  :  Poems.     Dr.  Johnson's  English  Poets,  Vol.  9.  — 
vX  Stephen,  Leslie  :  English  Thought  in  the  Eighteetith   Century.     2  vols.     Lon-  ^ 

don,  1887. 
Stepney,  George  :  Poeits.     Dr.  Johnson's  English  Poets.    — 
Sterne,  Laurence  :   Works.     Ed.  James  P.  Browne.     2  vols.     London,  1885.    — ' 
Symonds,  J.  A.:  Essays  Speculative  and  Suggestive.     London,  1893.     " 
Swift,  Jonathan  :  Poems.     Dr.  Johnson's  English  Poets,  Vols.  39  and  40.  ,- 
Taine,  H.  A.:   Voyage  en  Italic.     Paris,  1893.     •" 

Temple,  Sir  William  :   Works.     2  vols.     Ed.  Jonathan  Swift.     London,  1831.   -^ 
Thompson,  W'illiam  :   Poems.     Anderson's  British  Poets,  Vol.  10. 
Thomson,  James  :  Poetical  Works.     2  vols.     Aldine  ed.     London,  1867.  - 
Tickell,  Thomas  :  Poems.     Dr.  Johnson's  English  Poets,  Vol.  26.   •" 
Veitch,  John  :    The  Feeling  for  Nature  in  Scottisn  Poetry.     2  vols.     Edinburgh,    - 

1887. 
Waller,  Edmund  :  Poems.     Dr.  Johnson's  English  Poets,  Vol.  8.    ^ 
Walpole,  Horace  :   Works.     5  vols.     London,  1789.      — ' 


2  8o         TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

Warton,  Joseph  :  Poefiis.     Clarke's  Less  Knoivn  British  Poets,  Vol.  3.     Dods- 
ley's  Collection,  Vol.  3.     An  Essay  on  the  Genius  and  Writings  of  Pope.     2 
vols.     London,  1806. 
'^    Warton,  Thomas:     Poems.     Anderson's  British  Poets,  Vol.  Ii,  Part  2. 
—  Watts,  Isaac  :  Poems.     Dr.  Johnson's  English  Poets,  Vol.  46. 

'^  Whateley,  Thomas  :   Observations  on  Modern  Gardening.     London,  179S. 
-■    Whitehead,  William  :  Anderson's  British  Poets,  Vol.  11,  Part.  2. 
Q  Winchelsea,  Lady  (Anne  Finch):  Miscellany  Poems  on  Several  Occasions,   ll'rit- 
.^  ten  by  a  Lady.     17 13. 

^  Wordsworth,  William  :  Poetical  Works.     New  York,  1889. 

^  Yalden,  Thomas:  Poems.     Dr.  Johnson's  English  Poets,  Vol.  10. 
,—     Young,     Arthur :      Tour   in    Ireland.      Pinkerton's    Collection,    Vol.    3.       Tour 
•    through   Southern    Counties.     London,    1772.      Totir   in    Ireland,  2   vols. 
O  London,  1780.,  A  Farmer's  Tour.     4  vols.  London,  177 1. 
■<-  Young,  Edward  :  Poems.     Dr.  Johnson's  English  Poets,  Vols.  50,  51,  52. 


II 

I 


GENERAL   INDEX. 


Addison,  Joseph  :    19,  23,  28,  30,  40, 

46,72;  Gardens,  183-185  ;  Fiction, 

213,  214. 
Akenside,     Mark:      11,    17,    27,     42; 

Poems,     110-113.     244,    261,    265, 

267,  268,  269,  271,  272. 
Allan,  David  :  see  Painting,  237. 
Almada  Hill,  see  Mickle. 
Almoran    and    Hantet,    see    Hawkes- 

worth. 
Amory,  Thomas  :  9,  13,  195,  2 1 7-2 1 9, 

243,  254,  256. 
Amwell,  see  Scott,  John. 
Aiiiy)itor  and  Theodora,  see  Mallet. 
Animals  :    Thomson,  79  ;    Somerville, 

100;     Smart,      134;     Blake,      158; 

Cowper,    166;    Burns,    174;     Sum- 
mary, 260. 
Apollo's  Edict,  see  Swift. 
Armstrong,  John  :  29,  39  ;  Poems,  70- 

72;  244,  249,  251,  258,  260. 
Autumn  :  85,  86,  139,  145,  228. 
Bage,  Robert :  see  Fiction,  224. 
Bard,  The,  see  Gray. 
Barret,   George :    see    Painting,    238, 

254- 

Beattie,  James:  18,  19;  Poems,  148- 
153;  245,  246,  250,254,  255,257, 
258,  260,  264,  268,  269,  271,  272. 

Beckford,  William  :  see  Fiction,  224. 

Bees,  in  Similitudes,  27. 

Biese,  Alfred:  v,  vii,  12,  13,  19,  184, 
190,  230. 

Birds  :  in  Similitudes,  26,  27  ;  Thom- 
son, 78,  79  ;  Dyer,  93,  95  ;  Mallet, 
98;  Jago,  117;  Gray,  121  ;  Potter, 
121;  T.   Warton,   128;   Langhorne, 


132;     Mickle,     137;     Bruce,     144; 

Burns,    171,    175;    Summary,    251, 

252,  260. 
Blackmore,  Richard  :   10,  17,  38. 
Blair,  Robert:  28;  Poems,  114,  115. 
Blake,    William:     Poems,     156-159; 

244,  257. 
Blomfield  and  Thomas :  see  Gardens, 

181,  183. 
Bliimner,  Hugo  :  43. 
Borough,  The,  see  Crabbe. 
Bowles,  W.  L.:  126;  Poems,  175-179; 

248,  262,  267,  272. 
Boyse,  Samuel :  Poems,  105,  106;  265. 
Braes  of   Yarrow,   see    Logan ;    see 

Hamilton  of  Bangour. 
Bramstone,  Mr.:  186. 
Brand,  John  :  see  Travels,  194. 
Bray,  Mr.:  see  Travels,  210. 
Bridgeman,  Thomas  :  see  Gardens. 
Brooke,  Henry:  see  Fiction,  221. 
Brooke,  Mrs.:  see  Fiction,  221. 
Brooke,  Stopford  :  ix. 
Broome,  William  :   17,  18,  19,  23. 
Brown,  Dr.  John  :  1 3  ;  Poems,  131,132; 

Travels,    195-197;    243,    250,    251, 

254,  256. 
Brown,  Lancelot :  see  Gardens. 
Browne,  Isaac  Hawkins:  5. 
Bruce,    Michael:     Poems,    143,    144; 

245-260,  267. 
Buckingham,  Duke  of  :  27. 
Burnet,  Thomas  :  8,  20. 
Burney,  Fanny  :  see  Fiction,  224. 
Burns,   Robert  :  vii,  viii;    Poems,   170- 

175;  246,  247,  259,  260,  262,  272. 
Burroughs,  John  :   ix. 


281 


282 


TREATMENT  OE  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRl 


Butler,  Samuel :  30. 

Butts,  John  :  see  Painting,  233,  254. 

Caleb  Williams,  see  Godwin. 

Castle  of  Indolence,  see  Thomson. 

Castle  of  Otranto,  see  Walpole. 

Cawthorne,  James  :   186. 

Cecilia,  see  Burney. 

Chace,  The,  see  Somerville. 

Chambers,  Sir  William  :   191. 

Chapman,  George,  36. 

Chaucer,  Geoffrey  :  viii,  36. 

Clarissa  Harlowe,  see  Richardson. 

Classical  Period :  Subdivisions,  i ; 
Preference  for  city  life,  2-7  ;  Dis- 
like of  grand  or  terrible  in  nature,  7  ; 
Mountains,  7-14;  Ocean,  14-16; 
Winter,  16,  17  ;  Dislike  of  remote 
or  mysterious,  17  ;  Sky,  18  ;  Moon- 
light, 19;  Stars,  19,20;  Night,  21; 
Pleasure  in  gentler  forms  of  nature, 
21-23  ;  Description,  traditional  and 
bookish,  23,  24  ;  Gardens,  25,  180, 
181;  Similitudes,  25-32;  Sub- 
ordination of  nature  to  man,  32-35  ; 
Poetic  diction,  35-43 ;  Imitative 
character  of  poetry,  42-48  ;  Man  the 
supreme  interest,  48-51  ;  Summary, 

51,  52 

Clevelley,  John  :  see  Painting,  240. 

Clouds,  see  Sky. 

Collins,  William:  viii;  Poems,  108- 
iio;  244,  249,  250,  256,  257,  258. 

Congreve,  William  :   17,  24,  27,  33. 

Contemplation,  see  Hamilton  of  Ban- 
gour. 

Color:   J.    Philips,    54;    Parnell,    62; 
Ramsay,  68  ;  Thomson,  77  ;    Dyer, 
91,92;  Savage,  98  ;  Potter,  I22;T.>( 
Warton,  128;  Scott,  154.  ^J-^ 'r^^vi 

Cooper,  John  G.:  Poems,  113,  114; 
255,  267,  269. 

Country,  Life  in  the  :  Dislike  of  in 
classical  period,  2-6  ;  Preference  for 
in  transition  poetry,  262,  263. 


Country  People,  Realistic  descriptions 
of  :  Gay,  60-62  ;  Ramsay,  66  ;  Arm- 
strong, 71  ;  Thomson,  81,  82  ;  Dyer, 
93,  94  ;  Duck,  99  ;  Somerville,  100; 
Relph,  114;  Gray,  1 19;  Goldsmith, 
147;  Scott,  155;  Cowper,  164. 

Country  Walk,  The,  see  Dyer. 

Coventry,  Francis  :  Poems,  117-118; 
Gardens,  182,  191;  Fiction,  216,254, 
257. 

Cowley,  Abraham  :   1,2,  5,  6,  18,  19,  27, 

28,  29,33,  37,  38,41- 

Cowper,  William :  viii.  His  narrow 
experience,  162-164;  his  full  knowl- 
edge, 164;  his  felicitous  descriptions, 
164-167  ;  his  love  of  the  country, 
167  ;  his  way  of  using  nature,  168- 
170;  a  propagandist,  170  ;  244-272 
{passim"). 

Cozens,  John  :  see  Painting,  239. 

Crabbe,  George:  Poems,  159-162; 
237,  246. 

Crome,  John  :    see  Painting,  238. 

Cyder,  see  Philips,  J. 

Dalton,  Dr.  John:  13;  Poems,  122- 
124;    196,209,  253,  254,  259,261. 

David  Simple,  see  Fielding,  Sarah. 

Dayes,  Edward  :    see   Painting,  237. 

Defoe,  Daniel:    vii,  see  Fiction,  214. 

Deity,  The,   see  Boyse. 

Denham,  John  :   i,  6,  29,  73. 

Description  of  Orkney,  see  Brand. 

Description  of  Tweeddale,  see  Pen- 
necuik. 

Description  of  Western  Island  of  Scot- 
land, see  Martin. 

Descriptive  Poem,  A,  see  Dalton. 

Diction  :  Of  poets  in  classical  period, 
18,  19,  23,  24,  36-44  ;  A.  Philips,  55: 
Thomson,  82,83,  89;  Dyer,  91; 
Mallet,  97;  Akenside,  IIO;  Thomp- 
son, 116. 

Dryden,  John  :  i,  3,  10,  14,  18,  27,  28, 
30,  36,  38,  39,  41,  42,  45,  46,  178. 


GENERAL  INDEX 


283 


Duck,  Stephen  :     Poems,  99. 

Dyer,  John  :  40  ;  Poems,  90-95  ;  240- 
270  {passim). 

Eclogues,  see  Collins. 

Eclogues,  Amcebaans,  see  Scott. 

Edge  Hill,  see  Jago. 

Eighteenth  Century  Literature,  see 
Gosse. 

Eighteenth  Century,  English  Thought 
in  the,  see  Stephen. 

Eighteenth  Centuiy,  English  Litera- 
ture in,  see  Perry. 

Eighteenth  Century,  History  of  the,  see 
Lecky. 

Elegy  in  a  Country  Churchyard,  see 
Gray. 

Elfrida,  see  Mason. 

Emily  Alontagu,  see  Mrs.  Brooke. 

England  and  English  People,  see 
Miller. 

English  Lakes,  the  :  Dr.  Dalton,  122- 
124;  Brown,  131,  196,197;  Young, 
199,  200;  Gray,  200  ;  Pennant,  203- 
205  ;  Gilpin,  207  ;  Hutchinson  208- 
209;  Bray,  211  ;  P^our  Tours,  211; 
Hassel,  212;  Amory,  217,218; 
Wright,  237  ;  Dayes,  237  ;  Farring- 
ton,  235;  Mr.  Dalton,  238  ;  Havell, 
238  ;  Girtin,  238  ;  Crome,  238. 

Enthusiast,  The :  see  J.  Warton.  See 
Whitehead. 

Epostola  Ho  Eliancc,  see  Howell. 

Epsom  Wells,  see  Shadewell. 

Essay  on  the  Picturesque,  see  Price. 

Essay  on  Taste,  see  Cawthorne. 

Etherge,  Sir  George  :  4. 

Eton  College,  Ode  on  a  Distant  Prospect 
of,  see  Gray. 

Euphorion,  see  Lee. 

Evergreen,  The,  see  Ramsay. 

Evelina,  see  Burney. 

Evelyn,  John  :  8,  180. 

Evening,  see  Sky. 

Evening,  Ode  to,  see  Collins. 


Excursion,  The,  see  Mallet. 

Excursion  to  the  Lakes,  see  Hutchin- 
son. 

Falconer,  William  :   15,  16,  19,  40. 

Farewell  Llymn  to  the  Country,  see 
Potter. 

Female  Quixote,  The,  see  Lennox. 

Fenton,  Elijah  :  41. 

Ferdinand  Count  Fathom,  see  Smollett. 

Fiction:  Addison  and  Steele,  213; 
Defoe,  214;  Richardson,  214,  215, 
217;  Fielding,  Henry,  214,  215; 
Fielding,  Sarah,  215;  Smollett, 
215,216,217,  219,  221-223;  Pal- 
tock,  216;  Coventry,  216 ;  Lennox, 
216,  217  ;  Amory,  217,  218;  Johnson, 
219;  Sterne,  219,  221  ;  Hawkes- 
worth,  219;  Brooke,  Mrs.,  219-221  ; 
Walpole,22l;  Goldsmith,  22 1;  Mac- 
kenzie, 221,  223-4  ■'  Reeve,  223  ; 
Burney,  224;  Beckford,  224;  Moore, 
224  ;  Inchbald,  224  ;  Godwin,  224  ; 
Bage,  224-5  ;  Smith,  225-7  ;  Rad- 
cliffe,  227-9  ;  Summary,  229-30. 

Fielding,   Henry:    See    Fiction,    214, 

215- 

Fielding,  Sarah  :  see  Plction,  215. 

Field  Sports,  see  Somerville. 

F"irst-hand  Observation  :  J.  Philips,  54; 
A.  Philips,  55;  Winchelsea,  56;  Gay, 
59;  Parnell,  62  ;  Ramsay,  69;  Ami- 
strong,  71;  Pope,  73  ;  Thomson,  78, 
81,  82;  Dyer,  92;  Savage,  98;  Col- 
lins, 109:  Relph,  114;  Mendez,  116; 
Gray,  120,  201-206  ;  Dalton, 123;  T. 
Warton,  128  ;  Smart,  135;  Mickle, 
137  ;  Bruce,  143,  144;  Logan,  145; 
Beattie,  151;  Scott,  153-155;  Cowj)er, 
163,  165  ;  Brown,  196,  197  ;  Young, 
199;  Pennant,  203;  Gilpin,  206; 
Hutchinson,  208  ;  Bray, 21 1;  Gains- 
borough, 235;  Allan,  237;  Ibbetson, 
239;  Summary,  247,  248-262  {pas- 
sim). 


284 


TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 


Finch,  Anne  :  Poems,  56-58;  247,  249, 
250,  257,  259,  260,  265,  266,  267, 
270. 

Fischer,  Ch.:  ix. 

Flowers  :  in  Similitudes,  26 ;  Gay, 
60;  Thomson,  78;  Mallet,  98; 
Hamilton,  104;  Mickle,  137;  Scott, 
154;  Blake,  157;  Cowper,  164; 
Burns,  170;    Summary,  258,  259. 

Fleece,  The,  see  Dyer. 

Fleetivood,  see  Godwin. 

Fool  of  Quality,  see  Brooke,  Henry. 

Fox,  Charles,  see   Painting,  238. 

Fragment,  A,  see  Mallet. 

Gainsborough,  see  Painting,  235,  236, 

243- 

Garden,  Description  of  a  Chinese,  see 
Goldsmith,  191. 

Garden  in  England,  The  Formal,  see 
Bloomfield. 

Garden,  The  English,  see  Mason. 

Garden  Literature,  Gleanings  in  Old, 
see  Hazlitt. 

Garden,  Unconnected  Thoughts  on  a, 
see  Shenstone. 

Gardening,  Observatio7is  on  Modern, 
see  Whateley. 

Gardening,  On  Modern,  see  Walpole. 

Gardens,  Dissertation  on  Oriental,  see 
Chambers. 

Gardens  of  Epicurus,  On  the,  see 
Temple. 

Gardens,  Fatuous  Parks  and,  18 1,  183. 

Garden,  The :  vii,  25,  49 ;  Green, 
103;  Warton,  124;  Cowper,  164; 
The  classical  garden,  180,  181  ; 
Natural  garden  under  Kent,  Brown, 
Bridgeman,  181-183;  Pope  and 
Addison,  1 83-185  ;  The /<?;';;/<?  arne, 
186;  Leasowes,  186,  187  ;  Treatises 
by  Shenstone,  Whateley,  Walpole, 
Mason,  187,  188;  Picturesque  school, 
188;  Gardenesejue  school,  188,  189; 
Ruins,  189,   190  ;   Chinese  gardens, 


191  ;  Summary,  191,  192  ;  Remarks 
on  estates.  Young,  199  ;  Gray,  201 ; 
Bray,  210;  Smollett,  216;  Richard- 
son, 217  ;  Brooke,  Mrs.,  220 ;  Mack- 
enzie, 223  ;  Burney,  224  ;  Smith,  226. 

Garth,  Sir  Samuel  :   19,  52,  41. 

Gay,  John:  6,  18,  19,  26,  27,  46; 
Poems,  56-60  ;  232,  246-273  {pas- 
si  ni). 

Gentle  Shepherd,  The,  see  Ramsay. 

Geographical  Romance :  Thomson, 
84  ;  Dyer,  91. 

Gilpin,  William  :  on  Dyer,  92  ;  Gar- 
dens, 188,  189,  190;  Tours,  205- 
208  ;  242,  254,  256. 

Girtin,  Thomas :  see  Painting,  238, 
248,  254. 

Godwin,  William  :  see  Fiction,  224. 

Goldsmith,  Oliver:  Poems,  146-148 ; 
Gardens,  19 1 ;  Fiction,  221. 

GriKme,  James  :  Poems,  145,  146. 

Grainger,  James  :  Poems,  138. 

Grave,  The,  see  Blair. 

Gray,  Thomas:  41  ;  Poems,  118-121  ; 
152;  Travels,  200-202;  247,  249, 
250,  251,  254,  260,  267,  273. 

Greene,  Matthew;  Poems,  103. 

Grongar  Hill,  see  Dyer. 

Halifax,  Earl  of  :  28,  29. 

Hamilton,  William,  see  Travels,  195. 

Hamilton,  of  Bangour  :  viii ;  Poems, 
104,  105  ;  262,  263,  265,  266,  269. 

Harmony,  The  Potver  of,  see  Cooper. 

Hassel,  J.:  see  Painting,  212. 

Havell,    William,   see   Painting,    238, 

254- 
Hawkesworth,  John  :  see  Fiction,  219. 
Hazlitt,  William  :  2,  184. 
Hearne,  Thomas ;    see  Painting,  239. 
Heinsprong,  see  Bage. 
Hill,  Aaron  :  5. 
Hobhinol,  see  Somerville. 
Homer  :  viii,  35. 
Howell,  James  :  7. 


GENERAL  INDEX 


285 


Hughes,  John:  17,  18,  19,  27,  29,  34. 

Humboldt,  Alexander  von  :  v,  II,  50 
191. 

Hiiviphrey  Clinker,  see  Smollett. 

Hutchinson,  W.:  9;  see  Travels,  208. 

Hymn  to  Contentment,  see  Parnell. 

Hyiini  to  May,  see  Thompson. 

Imagination,  Pleasures  of  the,  see 
Akenside. 

Imitation :  of  classics,  by  poets  of 
classical  period,  42-46 ;  of  classics 
by  A.  Philips,  55  ;  by  Gay,  60  ;  by 
Ramsay,  66  ;  by  Thomson,  88,  89  ; 
by  Shenstone,  loi,  102  ;  of  English 
authors,  46-48  ;  of  Thomson,  see 
Thomson,  his  influence  ;  of  Dyer  by 
Mallet,  95  ;  of  Milton  by  J.  Warton, 
124  ;  by  T.  Warton,  127  ;  by  Grain- 
ger, 138;  by  Bruce,  143. 

Inchbald,  Mrs.:  see  Fiction,  224. 

Jago.  Richard  :  Poems,  117,  1S9,  254, 
260. 

Jo  Jin  Buncle,  Life  of,  see  Amory. 

Johnson,  Dr.  Samuel :  2,  9 ;  see 
Travels,  209,  210;  see  Fiction,  219, 
251. 

Jonathan  Wild,  see  Fielding,   Henry. 

Joseph  Andrews,   see  Fielding,  Henry. 

Jony)ial  in  the  Lakes,  see  Gray. 

Journey  to  the  Hebrides,  see  Johnson. 

Julia  de  Rotibigne,  see  Mackenzie. 

Kent,  William  :  see  Gardens  {passim). 

A'tsic'ick,  Letter  from,  see  Dr.  John 
lir  jwn. 

Knight,  Richard  Payne,  see  Gardens. 

I<l'osi/ios,  see  Humboldt. 

Laily  Julia  Mandeville,  see  Mrs. 
Brooke. 

Lambert,  George  :    see  Painting,  232. 

Landscape  Painting :  v,  vii ;  Paint- 
ing before  1755,  231-233  ;  Wilson, 
234,  235  ;  Gainsborough,  235,  236  ; 
Allan,  237  ;  Morland,  237  ;  Artists 
in  English  Lake  District,  237,  238  ; 


other  artists  who  studied    wild  sce- 
nery, 238;  Scenes  from  foreign  lands, 

239 ;  Specialists  in  various  phases 

of   nature,    239  ;  Ocean,  239,   240 ; 

Summary,  240,  241. 
Landscape,   The,  see  Knight. 
Langhorne,    John:    Poems,  132,   133; 

25S,  259,  261,  265,  266,  267,  270. 
Laprade,  Victor  de  :  vi. 
Lecky,  W.  E.  H.:   13,  181. 
Lee,  Vernon  :  ix,  22. 
Lennox,  Mrs.:  see  Fiction,  216. 
Letters  from  Antrim,  see  Hamilton. 
Localization  :  261,   262. 
Lochlevan,  see  Bruce. 
Logan,  John:  Poems,  144,  145;  252, 

262. 
Lyttleton,  Lord  :  4,  16. 
Mackenzie,  Henry:  see  Fiction,  221, 

223. 
McLaughlin,  E.  T.:  ix,  12,  17,  21. 
Macpherson,  James  :  Poems,  138-141, 

254,  261,  271. 
Mallet,    David :    3,    39,    40 ;    Poems, 

95-97  ;  188,  194,  254,  256,  257,  258, 

265,  267,  268,  269. 
Man  of  Feeling,   The,   see  Mackenzie. 
Man  of  Taste,  see  Bramstone. 
Marriott,  Mr.:  24,  19 1. 
Martin,  Mr.:  see  Travels,  194. 
Marvell,  Andrew  :  2,  9,  31,  34,  35,  73, 

78. 
Mason,    William:    Poems,    118,  246; 

see    Gardens,    184,    188,    190,    191, 

201,  209. 
Mendez,  Moses :   116,251. 
Mickle,  W.  J.:  Poems,   I36-I38;245, 

249,  254,  255,  256,  257,  261,  272. 
Milkmaid,  The,  see  Thompson. 
Miller,  Hugh  :   187. 
Milton,  John  :  vi,  2,  10,  27,  28,  40,  42, 

43,  124,   127. 
Minstrel,  The,  see  Beattie. 
Modet-n  Painters,  see  Ruskin. 


286 


TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 


Montagu,  Lad)-  Mary  Wortley  :    4,  16, 

17- 

Moonlight,  see  Sky. 

Moore,  Dr.:  see  Fiction,  224. 

Morland,  George  :    see  Painting,  237. 

Morning  Contemplation,  see  Pattison. 

Mountains  and  hills :  Dislike  of  in 
classical  period,  7-13  ;  Appreciation 
of  in  J.  Philips,  54  ;  Gay,  59  ;  Dyer, 
91,93;  Jago,  117;  Coventry,  117; 
Mason,  118;  Dalton,  123;  Lang- 
horne,  132;  Mickle,  136;  Macpher- 
son,  138,  139;  Ballads,  141  ;  Beat- 
tie,  149-152;  Brown,  196-198; 
Young,  199,  200;  Gray,  11 8,  200, 
201 ;  Pennant,  203,  204  ;  Gilpin, 
205,  206;  Hutchinson,  208,  209; 
Richardson,  217;  Amory,  217; 
Smollett,  222 ;  Radcliffe,  228 ; 
Sandby,  233 ;  Butts,  233  ;  Barret, 
238  ;  Fox,  238  ;  Girtin,  238  ;  Sum- 
mary, 254,  255,  261. 

Mysteries  of  Udolpho,  see  Mrs.  Rad- 
cliffe. 

Nature,  Literary  use  of  :  Parnell,  63  ; 
Pattison,  65;  Dyer,  94;  Hamilton 
of  Bangour,  105  ;  Collins,  109 ; 
Gray,  120 ;  Macpherson,  138,  139; 
Cowper,  168-170 ;  Burns,  174; 
Summary,  269-273. 

Nature  in  relation  to  man  :  Subordi- 
nation of  nature  to  man,  33-35,  48- 
51  ;  Gardens,  191  ;  Travels,  193, 
198  ;  Beneficent  influence  of  nature, 
J.  Philips,  54;  A.  Philips,  55,  56; 
Lady  Winchelsea,  58  ;  Gay,  60-62  ; 
Parnell,  64  ;  Pattison,  64,  65  ;  Ram- 
say, 70  ;  Thomson,  86,  87  ;  Dyer, 
93>  94>  95;  Shenstone,  102,  103; 
Hamilton,  104;  Coleridge  and 
Young,  107;  Akenside,  110-113; 
Cooper,  114;  Gray,  119,  120;  War- 
ton,  J.,  125;  Whitehead,  129,  130; 
Langhorne,   132,  133;  Mickle,  137; 


Macpherson,  140;  Goldsmith,  146, 
147;  Beattie,  148-150,  152;  Scott, 
155  ■>  Crabbe,  160,  161;  Cowper, 
167-170;  Bowles,  176-178;  Gilpin, 
207;  Robertson,  212;  Smith,  226; 
Radcliffe,  227-229  ;  Summary,  263, 
264. 

Nature  in  relation  to  God  :  Parnell, 
64  ;  Thomson,  88 ;  Boyse,  105  ; 
Young,  107  ;  Akenside,  113  ;  Lang- 
horne, 133;  Smart,  134,  135;  Cow- 
per, 169;  Burns,  171  ;  Summary, 
264-266. 

Nature,  Feeling  for  in  Scottish  Poetry, 
see  Veitch. 

N^ature,  Poetic  Interpretation  of,  see 
Shairp. 

Nicholson,  Francis,  see  Painting,  237. 

Night,  see  Sky. 

Night  Piece  on  Death,  see  Parnell. 

Night  Thoughts,  see  Young,  Edward. 

Nightingale,  The,  see  Lady  Winchel- 
sea. 

Nocturnal Revery,  see  Lady  Winchel- 
sea. 

Norris,  James  :  see  Painting,  233. 

Ocean,  The,  see  Young,  Edward. 

Ocean  :  Dislike  of  in  classical  period, 
14-16,  48;  Feeling  for  in  Gay,  59; 
Thomson,  89 ;  Mallett,  97  ;  Young, 
14,  106;  Mickle,  136;  Beattie,  149; 
Crabbe,  160-162  ;  Cowper,  163,  164  ; 
Radcliffe,  225 ;  in  Painting,  239 ; 
Summary,  255,  256  ;  see  Diction,  39. 

Odes,  see  Collins. 

Odes,  see  Warton,  Joseph. 

Odor :  J.  Philips,  54  ;  Lady  Winchel- 
sea, 57;  Thomson,  78;  Dyer,  93; 
Potter,  122  ;  Summary,  249,  250. 

Old  English  Baron,  see  Reeve. 

Old  Manor  House,  see  Smith,  Mrs. 

Ossian,  Poems  of,  see  Macpherson. 

Paltock,  Robert :  see  Fiction,  216. 

Pamela,  see  Richardson. 


GENERAL  INDEX 


287 


Parnell,  Thomas :  19,  24,  28,  30,  41, 
43  ;  Poems,  62-64  ;  265,  267. 

Pastorals,  see  A.  Philips. 

Pastorals,  see  Pope. 

Pastorals,  Cumbrian,  see  Relph. 

Pattison,  William  :  Poems,  64,  65. 

Pennant,  Thomas :  see  Travels,  203- 
205,  209. 

Pennecuik,  Alexander:  8;  see  Trav- 
els, 195. 

Percy,  Bishop:  37,  141-143. 

Peregrine  Pickle,  see  Smollett. 

Perry,  T.  S.:  ix,  11. 

Peter  Wilkins,  see  Paltock. 

Petrarch,  Letters  of,  li. 

Phelps,  W.  L.:  ix,  116,  190. 

Philips,  Ambrose  :  27,  32,  46  ;  Poems, 
55,  56;  74,  246,  248,  263,  266. 

Philips,  John  :  10,  18  ;  Poems,  54,  247, 
252,  254. 

Pinkerton  :   191. 

Place,  Francis  :  see  Painting,  232. 

Pocock,  Nicholas  :  see   Painting,   240. 

Pollio,  see  Alickle. 

Pompey  the  Little,  see  Coventry. 

Pope,  Alexander  :  viii,  i,  2,  3,  5,  6,  10, 
14,  16,  24,  27,  29,  30,  36,  42,  46,  47; 
Poems,  72-74;  88,  115,  126;  Gar- 
dens, 183-185. 

Pope,  Essay  on,  see  Warton,  Joseph. 

Potter,  R.:  Poems,  121  ;  259,  260. 

Price,  Sir  Uvedale  :  see  Gardens. 

Prior,  Matthew  :   10,  18,  24,  27,  28,  29. 

Progress  of  Taste,  see  Shenstone,  under 
Gardens. 

Radcliffe,  Mrs.:  see  Piction,  227-229; 
242,  243,   248,  256,   259,  263,  267, 

273- 
Rainbow,  see  Sky. 
Ramsay,  Allan  :   viii;   Poems,   65-70  ; 

186,   245,  249,  250,    254,  257,  258, 

261,  263. 
Rasselas,  see  Johnson. 
Reeve,  Clara  :  see  Fiction,  223. 


Reliques  of  Ancient  Poetry,  s,tQ  Percy. 
Relph,  Joseph  :   Pormo,  1 14;  249. 
Repton,    Humphrey :     see     Gardens, 

181,  188,  189,  242,  243. 
Rhapsody,  see  Broidu,  Dr.  John. 
Riccaltoun,  Robert:  Poems,  71. 
Richardson,  Samuel:  see  Fiction,  215, 

217,  242. 
River,  in  Similitudes,  28-30. 
Robinson  Crusoe,  see  Defoe. 
Roderick  Random,  see  Smollett. 
Romantic   Movement,    Beginnings   of 

the  English,  see  Phelps. 
Romance  of  a  Forest,  see  Mrs.  Radcliffe. 
Rose,  in  Similitudes,  26. 
Rousseau,  Jean  Jacques  :   12,  125. 
Rowe,  Nicholas  :   18. 
Runciman,  Alexander :    see  Painting. 

233- 
Rural  Elegance,  see  Shenstone. 
Rural  Sports,  see  Somerville. 
Ruskin,  John  :  vi,  21,  49. 
Sandby,  Paul :  see  Painting,  233,  254. 
Savage,  Richard  :  Poems,  97-99  ;  249. 
Schiller,  Friedrich  :  v,  143. 
Scott,    John:     Poems,    153-155  ;    158, 

247,248,  249,  254. 
Sea  Pieces,  see  Young,  Edward. 
Seasons,  The,  in  Similitudes,  31. 
Seasons,  The,  see  Mendez. 
Seasons,  The,  see  Thompson. 
Self-conscious  statements  :  A.  Philips 

Gay,     61,    62  ;     Ramsay,    66,    67 ; 

Addison,  74  ;  Dyer,  94  ;  Shenstone, 

101-102  ;  Young,  106  ;  Mason,  1 18  ; 

Warton,    J.,    126,    127  ;    Goldsmith, 

148;     Scott,     154;     Crabbe,    159; 

Burns,    172,    173  ;     Summary,    245, 

246. 
Sentimental     Melancholy :     Pattison, 

64  ;  Blair,  I15  ;  Gray,  119;  Warton, 

J.,  125;  Warton,  T.,  128;  Grainger, 

138;    Graeme,   146;    Beattie,    148; 

Robertson,  212. 


288 


TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 


Sentiment  de  la  Nature,  La,  see  La- 
prade. 

Sentimentale  nnd  A^aive  Dichtung, 
Ueber  die,  see  Schiller. 

Serres,  Dominic  :   239. 

Seventeenth  Century  Studies,  see  Gosse. 

Shadwell,  Thomas  :  4. 

Shakespeare  to  Pope,  From,  see  Gosse. 

Shairp,  J.  C:  viii,  54. 

Shaw,  Rev.  Mr.:  211. 

Shenstone,  William  :  4,  17,  19,  23,  34, 
41,  42,43;  Poems,  101-103  ;  Gar- 
dens, 186,  187  ;  246,  248,  249,  260, 
263. 

Shepherd' s  Week,  I'he,  see  Gay. 

Sheridan,  Dr.:  26. 

Shipwreck,  The,  see  Falconer. 

Sickness,  see  Thompson. 

Similitudes  :  in  classical  period,  25- 
32  ;  in  Thomson,  75,  76  ;  in  Ossian, 
140,  141  ;  in  Ballads,  143  ;  in  Blake, 
158;  in  Rasse/as,  219;  in  Smollett, 
219. 

Simple  Sto7y,  A.,  see  Mrs.  Inchbald. 

Sir  Charles  Grandison,  see  Richardson. 

Sir  Launcelot  Greaves,  see  Smollett. 

Sky  Phenomena  :  Indifference  to  in 
classical  period,  17-21,48;  Phrases 
for  sky,  39  ;  Lady  Winchelsea  on, 
58  ;  Ramsay  on,  68,  69 ;  Summary, 
256-258.  Stars,  19,  20,  21,  59,  80, 
137,  139.  Moonlight,  19,  20,  21, 
57,  59,  80,  98,  128,  137,  139,  149, 
197,  202,  209,  212,  216,  226,  228, 
239,  257.  Clouds,  18,  21,  62,  69, 
81,98,151,152,197,257.  Sunrise, 
18,  21,  28,  32,  81,  96,  98,  100,  113, 
116,  119,  149.  Sunset,  18,  21,  28, 
32,  58,  81,  98,  109,  113,  119,  130, 
178,202,206,208,212,227.  Even- 
ing, 81,92,  109,  121,  137,  229,  257. 
Night,  21,  40,  57,  63,  81,  8.;,  107, 
125,  131,  150,  226,  257.  Rainbow, 
18,  98. 


Smart,  Christopher  :    Poems,  134-136. 

Smith,  Mrs.  Charlotte :  see  Fiction, 
225-227,  248. 

Smiths  of  Chichester,  The  :  see  Paint- 
ing, 233- 

Smollett,  Tobias :  see  Fiction,  215, 
216,  217,  219,  221,  261. 

Somerville,  William,  19,  27,  29,  37,  38; 
Poems,  100,  loi. 

So^ig  to  David,  see  Smart. 

Sonnets,  see  Bowles. 

Sound:  Lady  Winchelsea,  57; 
Thompson,  77,  78,  84;  Brown,  131, 
197;  Beattie,  151  ;  Cowper,  165  ; 
Dr.  Johnson,  210;  Summary,  250- 
252. 

Spleen,  The,  see  Green. 

Spratt,  Thomas  :  28. 

Spring  :  in  classical  period,  21  ;  Ad- 
dison, 22  ;  Parnell,  63  ;  Thomson, 
74,  77  ;  Hamilton,  104;  Thompson, 
116;  Gray,  1 18;  T;  Warton,  128; 
Logan,  145;  Blake,  156. 

Stephen,  Leslie  :  ix. 

Sterne,  Lawrence:  219,  221. 

Storms:  15,  16,  17;  Armstrong,  71 ; 
Thomson,  79,  80;  Collins,  109; 
Beattie,  149;  Brown,  197;  Dr. 
Johnson,  210  ;  Summary,  258. 

Streams  and  Rivers  :  in  Similitudes, 
28,  29  ;  Ramsay,  69  ;  Armstrong, 
71  ;  Thomson,  78  ;  Dyer,  91  ;  Aken- 
side,  no;  Potter,  122;  Dalton,  122, 
123;  Mickle,  136;  Bruce,  144; 
Burns,  172,  173;  Bowles,  177; 
Brown,  199,  200  ;  Gray,  202  ;  Pen- 
nant, 203  ;  Gilpin,  206  ;  Hutchin- 
son, 209;  Brav,  211;  Summary, 
250,  261,  262. 

Stiidien  zur  Englischen  Literatur- 
geschichte,  Drei,  see  Plscher. 

Studies  in  Jllediceval  Life  and  Litera- 
ture, see  McLaughlin. 

Sugar  Cane,  The,  see  Grainger. 


GENERAL  INDEX 


289 


Sunrise,  see  Sky. 

Sunset,  see  Sky. 

Swift,  Jonathan  :  32,  61. 

Symonds,  John  A.:  ix,  21. 

Taine,  H.  A.,  50,  189. 

Tartana,  see  Ramsay. 

Task,  The,  see  Cowper. 

Temple,  Sir  William  :  80,  81. 

Theory  of  the  Earth,  Sacred,  see  Bur- 
net. 

Thompson,  William  ;  47  ;  Poems,  115, 
116. 

Thomson,  James  :  vii,  viii ;  29,  40,  41, 
53;  his  works,  75,  76;  his  charac- 
teristics as  a  poet  of  nature,  76-88  ; 
his  affiliations  with  the  classical 
spirit,  88,  89  ;  his  influence,  90,  on 
Armstrong,  70,  on  Mallet,  96,  97, 
on  Savage,  98,  on  Somerville,  10 1, 
orl  Boyse,  106,  on  Thompson,  115, 
on  Mendez,  116,  on  Warton,  J., 
124,  on  Warton,  T.,  126;  Sum- 
mary, 243-267  {passini). 

Thresher's  Labour,  The,  see  Duck. 

Tickell,  Thomas  :    II,    18,   19,   27,38, 

47- 

Tom  Jones,  see  Fielding,  Henry. 

Tour  into  Derbyshire,  see  Bray. 

Tour  in  the  Isle  of  Man,  see  Robert- 
son. 

Tour  in  the  Isle  of  Wight,  see  Hassel. 

Tour  in  Scotland,  see  Pennant. 

Tours,  see  Young,  Arthur. 

Tours,  see  Gilpin. 

Traveller,  The,  see  Goldsmith. 

Travels:  Martin,  194;  Brand,  194; 
Pennecuik,  195;  Hamilton,  195; 
Bushe,  195;  Brown,  195;  Young, 
198;  Gray,  200 ;  Pennant,  202; 
Gilpin,  205  ;  Hutchinson,  208  ;  Dr. 
Johnson,  209;  Bray,  210 ;  Shaw, 
211;  Hassel,  212;  Robertson,  212  ; 
Summary,  212. 


Travels,  Catalogue  of  Voyages  and 
see  Pinkerton. 

True,  A.:   see  Lady  Winchelsea. 

Trees  and  Forest:  in  Similitudes,  31; 
Winchelsea,  56;  Dyer,  91,  92; 
Hamilton,  104;  Blair,  II4;  Potter, 
121,  122;  Dalton,  123;  Warton, 
126;  Smart,  134;  Ballads,  141, 
142;  Scott,  154;  Cowper,  164, 
165  ;   Summary,  249,  260. 

Tristani  Shandy,  see  Sterne. 

J'athek,  see  Beckford. 

Veitch,  John  :  viii,  16,  49,  73. 

Vicar  of  Wakefield,  The,  see  Gold- 
smith. 

Village,  The,  see  Crabbe. 

Village,  The  Deserted,  see  Goldsmith. 

Virgil :  viii,  6,  27,  36,  42,  43,  45,  46,  68. 

Waller,  Edmund  :  i,  9,  14,  18,  19,  27, 
28,  33,  34,  43. 

Walpole,  Horace,  see  Gardens,  188, 
191  ;  see  Fiction,  221. 

Wanderer,  The,  see  Savage. 

Warton,  Joseph  :  Poems,  1 19,  124-126; 
Essay  on  Pope,  126,  127,  246,  249, 
256,257,  262,  263,  267. 

Warton,  Thomas  :  Poems,  128,  129, 
177;  249,  256,  258,  262. 

Water:  in  Similitudes,  28,  29. 

Watts,  Isaac:  6,  18,  19,  27,  33,  46. 

Webber,  John,  see  Painting,  239. 

Whateley,  Thomas  :   183,  187. 

Whitehead,  William :  Poems,  129, 
130;  246,  267. 

Wide  views  :  J.  Philips,  54  ;  Addison, 
74  ;  Thomson,  83  ;  Dyer,  93  ;  Mal- 
let, 96;  Jago,  117  :  Warton,  J.,  126; 
Warton,  T.,  128;  Langhorne,  132; 
Bruce,  144;  Beattie,  148;  Scott, 
155;  Cowper,  165,  166;  Brown, 
197;  Young,  199;  Pennant,  203; 
Brav,  210;  Radcliffe,  228;  Sum- 
mary, 256.  '     ' 


290         TREATMENT  OF  NATURE  IN  ENGLISH  POETRY 

Winter:  in   classical   period,    16,    17:  Young,  Arthur  :  see  Travels,  1 98-2  00, 

Armstrong,      70,    71  ;     Riccaltoun,  256. 

72;  Thomson,  79,  80;  Ballads,  142  ;  Voung,   Edward  :     Poems,     106-108, 

Cowper,  169;  Burns,  171.  265. 


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